Fractured
by Jedicellomaster
Summary: SEQUEL TO FORBIDDEN. Alex Clayton is dead—ambushed when she least expected it. When she is sent to the Underworld, her enemies conspire to put her in the Fields of Asphodel to silence her. Because she knows something that will crush the Syndicate—and Liam will stop at nothing to bring her back.
1. SATURDAY IS RUINED

**CONGRATULATIONS! If you made it past the description, I applaud you! I know that some of you might be angry with me considering what I did to one of my beloved characters, but I promise you, it WILL get better! We can get through this.**

 **But welcome back! This story will alternate between Alex and Lam's POVs. Please don't hate me.**

* * *

 **Liam**

The day started out just like any other.

Liam groaned as his alarm went off. It was eight in the morning; why had he insisted on waking up so early? On a _Saturday_ , no less.

The memory hit him like a cold splash of water. This wasn't just _any_ Saturday—it was _the_ Saturday.

Liam rolled out of bed—literally—and hit the floor with a soft _thud_. Below him, on the first floor, he heard his mother protest, saying that the floor was "too old" for him to be flopping onto it every morning. Liam ignored her. The floor had held up for ten years; it could survive a little more punishment.

Liam grabbed his teak cane from off his bedside and stumbled to his feet. Sometimes his foot still pained him, but it wasn't too bad this morning. Quickly, he dressed himself in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and checked his reflection in the mirror.

His brown hair was a mess—it usually was in the mornings. He quickly combed it neatly, making sure that none of the strands fell in front of his green eyes. When that was done, he appraised himself critically in the mirror.

He wasn't exactly handsome—Liam preferred the term _average_. Still, Alex insisted that he was indeed handsome, even if he didn't believe it himself. He told her the same thing about how beautiful she was, and she usually rolled her eyes at him.

At that thought, Liam was reminded of what day it was again. Quickly, he rushed to the bathroom and brushed his teeth before sprinting downstairs.

His mother was waiting for him, her arms crossed. "Where are you rushing off to?"

In Liam's opinion, he had the best mother in the world. She had red hair, just like his little sister Jasmine, but it was starting to turn gray at the roots. She may have had lines around her blue eyes, but other than that her age didn't show. She was smiling at him, and Liam couldn't help but smile back. In the kitchen, he could smell pancakes cooking. His mother knew that Liam loved pancakes. On a bad day, she would slather pancakes in chocolate sauce to cheer him up.

"Mom, you know what day it is," Liam said with a smile as he grabbed a pancake and ate it with his hands.

His mother slapped his arm and handed him a plate and fork. "You'd think I raised you in a barn."

"Only Nashville."

She laughed and straightened his t-shirt. "Really? You're wearing this?"

Liam rolled his eyes and cut his pancake into smaller pieces. "She doesn't care what I wear, mom."

He scooped up the last of the pancake into his mouth and slipped his sneakers onto his feet. He also grabbed an orange zip-up hoodie. Even though it was warm outside, the way he usually traveled typically left him freezing.

"Stay safe!" his mother called after him as he pushed open the front door. "Watch out for airplanes!"

Liam chuckled to himself and said, "I'll be back this afternoon!"

Then he was outside. It was April, which meant that the weather was warmer, maybe sixty, seventy degrees out. On the street, cars rushed past, on their way to important business meetings of some sort. Other people passed on foot, typically sipping coffee as they played a game on their phones.

Liam circled around to the back of his house as he shrugged on his hoodie, zipping it up all the way. He didn't bother placing his hood over his head. It would just get knocked down again. He hooked his cane into his belt, giving himself a moment to balance.

Looking around to make sure that nobody was watching, Liam jumped into the sky.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of rushing wind as he sped upwards, and then silence as he righted himself and hung a thousand feet in the air.

Contrary to popular belief, what Liam did wasn't really _flying_ , persay. It was more like he was falling, but continuously catching himself by manipulating the winds. Hovering in place, like he was doing now, was perhaps the hardest. When he had first discovered what he could do, he had just flown into things. One time, he had almost knocked out one of the walls in the school with his head.

Staying in one place required him to manipulate the winds so that he was pressed on them by all sides. Otherwise, he'd go shooting off in another direction.

Liam took a moment to look at the city. Compared to some of the skyscrapers in New York, he wasn't really that high in the air. But for his purposes that morning, his height was ideal.

He checked his pockets for his goggles, and his hand brushed against the small box in his pocket as he did. He made sure that it was secure before strapping on his goggles. He had learned the hard way that traveling in the air without proper eye protection usually either made his eyes water so bad it looked like he had been sobbing, or he ended up with bugs in his eyes. Luckily he was wearing his contacts, otherwise he would have had to fly blind because his goggles didn't fit over his glasses. He was _blind_ without his glasses. One time he had ended up in New Jersey before he realized his mistake.

Liam checked the date on his watch as he flew, compensating for the difference in aerodynamics as he brought his arm up from his side. February 13th, it read. It also told him that it was now 8:34. He was late.

He cursed in Greek and picked up speed. Alex was going to kill him.

Today was their two-year anniversary of dating, and last year, Liam had been an hour late. He was determined to be better this year. Besides, he had a pretty amazing gift. Even if he was late, that should make up for it, right?

Liam wasn't sure why he was worried. Alex was a pretty laid-back girlfriend. Still, he liked to impress her. No sense to stop now.

The trip itself wasn't that long, not when he was flying this fast. Liam hadn't tested how fast he could fly, but he knew he could go over a hundred miles per hour. He'd raced a sports car from overhead once.

He came to a stop in mid-air, peering out of the clouds like some bizarre peeking-tom. Below him was Alex's house. It was two stories and big enough to fit a family of seven, with granite bricks and a white picket fence. And of course, a battle was raging next to it.

Even this high in the air, he could see the small army of monsters marching on the Clayton household. There had to be at least thirty monsters, each of them different. Beginning to lower himself, Liam could see hellhounds, draconae, cyclopes, and even a single empousa. It was enough to make even a well-versed half-blood like him gulp. But, of course, the Claytons were pulverizing them.

There were only three (four if one counted the dog) of them, but they were making the small army look like a group of stuffed animals. Outside the house in a small semi-circle, the three Claytons ripped into the monsters courageously. Bobby wielded his sword bravely, cutting down monsters left and right. His celestial bronze chainmail was coated in a thick layer of monster dust. As his tutor, Liam felt a flash of pride. Clearly, all the hours spent helping Bobby learn to fight with a sword had paid off. Lawrence was engaged in the fight too, using his celestial bronze bullets to turn monsters into dust. Even Cooper, their half-dog-half-wolf pet was pitching in, barking to keep the monsters further away. But, of course, Alex was doing most of the work—which made sense, since all of the monsters were focused on her.

She had her fearsome silver and gold bow drawn, and was firing as many as five arrows at a time at the enemy. She had her red hair drawn back in a ponytail and was dressed casually for a battle—jeans, a hoodie, and Converse sneakers. Yet Liam knew that the dark brown leather jacket she wore over her hoodie was actually a Nemean Lion's pelt—a gift from her mother two years previous. Around her neck, a shining white necklace sat. It used to be a part of the Aetherium Crown—an artifact that they had retrieved from Atlantis—but the Crown had "given" the necklace to her to restore her powers after she had lost them saving Liam's life. He still wasn't sure how that worked.

Alex was the daughter of Artemis, the goddess of the moon, the hunt, and virginity. How Alex had came to be still boggled Liam's mind, so he preferred not to think about it. Two years ago, his father Zeus had discovered Alex's existence, believed that Artemis had broken her vow of eternal maidenship, and had ordered Alex's death—in fact, the Lord of the Sky had demanded that Liam be her executioner.

That plan hadn't exactly panned out. As it always did when he saw her, his heart did a little impromptu river dance in his chest. She hadn't spotted him yet, hovering hundreds of feet above her family in the sky, probably because she was too busy vaporizing monsters with her bow and arrow (thanks to her mother's gifts, she never missed).

Good. Time to make an entrance.

Liam pressed a button on the ring on his index finger. When he had first discovered that he was the son of Zeus two years ago, it had been a gift from his father. Immediately, the ring grew and transformed into a leaf-shaped sword sharp enough to cleave through a monster's neck. _Katamennos_ —Stormborn.

Liam took a deep breath and released his hold on the winds. Instantly, he began to drop like a stone, diving face-first towards the pavement. He concentrated, feeling an intense buzzing sensation at the base of his skull as his body crackled with lightning.

He loved doing this trick. It always scared monsters.

Liam slammed into the pavement with enough force to break every bone in a regular mortal's body. Lightning followed after him, arcing from his body in a massive storm, sending every monster in a three-foot radius back to Tartarus. His clothes were steaming, but he knew from experience that they wouldn't burn up—not unless he did something really spectacular.

Liam straightened, grinning, as the other monsters stopped what they were doing to stare at him.

"Hi, guys!" he exclaimed gleefully, turning a hellhound to dust with a snap of his fingers that sent thunder racing for it.

The monsters reacted all at once. Some of them turned and ran, but Lawrence and Alex quickly took them out before they could run too far. Most of them lunged for him.

Liam ducked a claw from a draconae and slashed into it at the hip, cutting the snake-woman in half. Less than a second later, two hellhounds dived towards him, but he batted one away with his cane and dodged the other. A moment later, they faded into shadows as silver arrows took them both in the neck. Liam grinned as he gathered the winds around himself and _pushed_. Any monster nearby went flying—some of them hit buildings, others hit mailboxes and one draconae completely demolished a porta-potty down the street. Just like that, the street was cleared of anything except monster dust.

Liam turned Stormborn back into a ring by pressing a button on the hilt, turning to face the Claytons. Bobby was grinning, wiping monster dust off of his sword. Cooper was shaking the yellow sand out of his fur and wagging his tail. Lawrence was reloading his gun—and looking cool while he did it—but Alex was already approaching Liam.

To anyone else, the sight of the Daughter of Artemis marching towards them might have been intimidating, but Liam could sense the smile that Alex was hiding as she transformed her bow back into a silver watch.

"You're late," she said, crossing her arms as she stopped in front of him.

"Come on," Liam said, brushing monster dust off his shoulder with a goofy grin. "If I wasn't fashionably late, you would be terribly bored."

Alex rolled her eyes—one green, one brown—but she was smiling. Liam loved that he could make her do that.

"Every time you drop out of the sky," she said, gesturing to the large pothole that he had made in the pavement, "I think you're going to break your neck."

"You'd be devastated," Liam said, taking a step towards her.

"You wish." But she kissed him all the same. Every time she did, it felt like Liam's brain was on fire—but in a good way.

"Gross!" Bobby shouted. "Get a room!"

"Oh, no you don't!" Lawrence protested as Liam and Alex broke apart.

Liam took a moment to observe Alex's family. Lawrence was actually her father, and they shared the same eye shape and cheekbones, though Alex mostly resembled her mother. Lawrence was only forty-two, but he looked like he was in his early thirties. It was surprising that no gray had begun to set into his blonde hair yet, especially considering that he had been promoted to a detective in the police force recently. Despite his age, his hazel eyes were very alert—no doubt the son of Athena was already calculating a dozen ways to better defend his home.

Bobby, on the other hand, was fifteen, scrappy, and very much a demigod. He had ADHD and dyslexia, and it was obvious—already the young boy was distracted by a squirrel climbing a tree. Bobby's curly blonde hair resembled his father, Dionysus's, in curliness alone. Liam had never met the boy's mother, and neither had Bobby (she had died in a car crash when he was young), but Liam suspected that he took after her. Bobby's blue eyes certainly didn't look like Mr. D's. Bobby and Alex had grown up in foster care together, and Lawrence had adopted the kid after Alex had defeated the Titan Phoebe two summers ago.

And somehow, these three half-bloods lived together. Liam was no longer surprised whenever he found monsters attacking the Claytons. With three of them clustered in one house, things were bound to get hairy. But all three of them could handle themselves, especially Alex.

Alex turned to her father and adopted brother, a defiant expression on her face. "Don't you two have something to be working on?"

Bobby and Lawrence sighed in unison and retreated inside the house, though Liam did hear Lawrence mutter something about "teenage hormones." Cooper followed them, barking once at Liam in greeting before disappearing inside the house.

"What are they working on?" Liam asked Alex as they closed the front door.

She shrugged. "Bobby has some science project for school."

"How is he adjusting to high school?"

"Oh, he's fine—he's got better grades than I do. Did you really come here just to talk about my brother?"

Liam flashed another grin at her, reaching into his pocket for her anniversary gift. "Happy anniversary."

Alex was smiling. "I love you, flyb—"

THUNK!

Something slammed into her chest from behind, making a horrific squishing sound. For a moment, they both just stared at the black crossbow bolt that protruded from her chest. Blood began to dribble out of the wound.

Alex coughed suddenly, and blood leaked out of her mouth. Slowly, she began to topple forward. Liam caught her clumsily, feeling a terrible mixture of shock and soul-shaking fear as he set her on the ground.

"No," he muttered, taking a canteen of nectar from her belt. "No, no, no..."

Liam wasn't sure what exactly he was supposed to do, but he knew that he couldn't use nectar on it while the crossbow bolt was still in her chest. Feeling like he wanted to vomit and panic at the same time, he wrapped his hands around the arrow and pulled.

It came free of her chest with a horrible squelching sound, and then she gasped as blood began to fill her lungs. Desperately, Liam poured as much nectar as he could into the wound, but it was too late—none of the godly drink had any affect.

"No!" Liam screamed, not caring that his voice cracked as he grabbed Alex's shoulders. She couldn't die!

Suddenly, she gripped his hands with such power that he could feel his fingers turning purple.

"Liam," she gasped, her voice a whisper of what it had been. "The...the...bounty hunters..." She trailed off, her eyes beginning to close.

"Stay awake!" Liam told her, his voice trembling as he shook her to make her eyes open again. "Help is coming, you just..." He couldn't finish the sentence. The nectar hadn't worked. Alex's grip on his hand was fading, becoming slack. "I love you, Alex." He repeated it over and over again, holding her hand tighter as she gripped his looser.

"You...too..." Then she gasped, a horrible, gut-wrenching sound, and was still, her mismatched eyes staring at nothing.

Sitting back on his haunches, Liam placed his face in his hands and began to cry.

* * *

 **PLEASE DON'T HATE ME.**

 **So I'm going to try something that I liked with one of my other stories. Dumb jokes! So here goes:**

 **Why did the elephants get kicked out of the public swimming pool?**

 **They kept dropping their trunks!**

 **PLEASE. REVIEW.**


	2. DEATH, WITH A SIDE OF COFFEE

**Are you still with me? Are you not too angry with me to continue? Great!**

 **I realize I forgot something last chapter: I DO NOT OWN THE PERCY JACKSON SERIES!**

* * *

 **Alex**

The Underworld is a strange place.

I woke up with a gasp on the floor of some office building. It must have been midnight, since the outside world was incredibly dark, but the lobby was brightly lit and full of people. Behind the security desk sat a tough-looking guard with sunglasses and an earpiece.

Music that sounded like it belonged in an elevator played softly on speakers I couldn't see. The carpet and walls were the same shade of gray as an elephant. Cactuses grew in the corner like the hands of a zombie. The furniture was dark leather, and every seat was taken. There were people standing up as well. Most of them stared out the window or waited for an elevator that looked like it was never coming. Other than that, nobody did much of anything.

In my peripheral vision, I could see all of them clear as day, but if I looked at anyone directly, they began looking transparent. I could see right through their bodies. It was like a bad horror movie.

I looked down at my own body with a start. I was wearing my normal outfit: a black hoodie with white highlights, a gray t-shirt and blue jeans, but if I looked really closely, I could see right through my own body.

I swallowed. Was I—

"Oh, here's another one," a man said. It was hard to make out his features, because he was so transparent, but if I had to guess, I would say he was elderly, and was very grumpy. He certainly didn't _sound_ happy.

"Where am I?" I asked.

The man scoffed. "Don't you know? You're dead. This is the gate to the underworld. That guy over there'll take you...if you have the coin."

I looked around me and gulped. The last thing that I remembered...the last thing that I remembered was looking up at Liam with an arrow sticking out of my chest.

Oh my gods. I _was_ dead.

That must mean that this was...

The security guard's desk was lifted a couple feet off the ground, so I had to crane my neck to see him.

He was tall and elegant, with russet skin and bleached-blonde hair shaved down to his scalp. He wore tortoiseshell shades and a silk Italian suit that matched his hair. A black rose was pinned to his lapel under a silver name tag.

I read the name tag, then looked up at him in confusion. He certainly didn't look like Chiron. "Your name is Chir—" I caught myself. "Charon?"

He leaned across the desk, grinning. His sunglasses were so dark that I could only see his reflection, but his smile was cold and unforgiving. It reminded me of Phoebe, my great-grandmother, and I shivered. Still, the man seemed pleased that I had gotten his name right.

"Finally!" he exclaimed in a British accent. " _Someone_ who knows how to read!" He sat back in his seat. "Well done. But it's _Mister_ Charon."

I grit my teeth. What was with gods and being addressed as sir or mister? As if they didn't receive enough respect already...

"Mr. Charon," I said, trying to sound pleasant.

"Great," he said, crossing his arms. "How may I help you, little dead one?"

His question caught in my stomach like a dodgeball thrown by Clarisse. I gasped for air, and then realized that I didn't need any. Because I was dead.

"Alright, let me help you." He yawned. "How did you die? You look like an interesting sort."

"I...I think someone shot me. With an arrow."

Charon raised an eyebrow. "Haven't had one of those in a while. You a demigod, I take it? Or just exploring in the native regions?"

"Demigod."

"Who's your parent?"

He seemed to ask a lot of questions. I hesitated. People knowing who I was hardly ever turned out to be a good thing. But I guess it didn't matter anymore. "My mother is Artemis."

Charon's jaw dropped. "You're the lass that caused that giant ruckus two years ago?"

I nodded.

Charon took out a mug of coffee and took a deep sip. "I'm surprised you haven't started begging me yet."

I cocked my head, confused. "B-begging?"

"Oh, you know, 'Oh, Mr. Charon, there must be some mistake,' or 'I don't have any drachma' or—"

"I have drachma."

He raised an eyebrow. "You do? Now that's a different story, lass. How much do you have?"

I had ten, but I placed one on the counter. I always carried drachma with me, just in case I reached a situation that I had to bargain my way out of. Like this one.

Charon sighed, but I could sense his interest in the drachma. "Is that it? I suppose I can take you. Take a seat, lass. The boat to the Underworld departs in a century or two."

He reached for the coin, but I casually swept it back into my hand before he could grab it.

"I want to go _now_ ," I insisted. I may have been dead, but _nobody_ was going to push me around like that. Normally, I would have been more careful around a god or whatever Charon was, but I was already dead. What could he possibly do to me?

I quickly reconsidered that sentiment as the shadows surrounding Charon began to lengthen, becoming darker and more sinister as his smile stiffened. He began to growl, sounding like a hellhound would. It made my hair stand on end.

I tried to muster up a casual air, like his growling didn't make my blood curdle. "You look under appreciated," I told Charon, reaching into my coat pocket and casually jingling the coins I had there. "How old is that suit? A decade old? I bet I could make a quick trip worth your while."

Faster than I could blink, his growl transformed into a soft purr. "Really?" The shadows behind him retreated back to normal.

"Of course," I agreed, stacking drachma on the table like they were nothing but potato chips. Really, _really_ important potato chips. "I bet Hades has forgotten you're out here. Imagine how nice a suit you could buy with this." I stacked the tenth drachma on the counter.

Charon licked his lips like he was about to eat the world's tastiest brownie. "You've got yourself a deal."

He rummaged around his desk and handed me a green card. When I read the golden inscription on the side, it said something like, ONE TRIP TO THE UNDERWORLD! in Greek. Underneath it was the image of a boat with a smily face on the side of it. It was probably meant to cheer up dead souls, but somehow it only ended up creeping me out more.

He stood and scooped the drachmas into his hand. They disappeared into his suit's pocket. "Right this way."

He pushed through the crowd of waiting spirits, who clutched at my jacket like I was some kind of celebrity passing through. They were whispering strange things.

" _Daughter of Artemis!_ " one of them said.

" _She killed Phoebe!_ " another gasped.

" _This is just the beginning of your suffering_ ," a third, raspy voice whispered.

I spun, trying to find the last speaker, but in the crowd of spirits, it was impossible to tell who had said that. Unnerved, I followed Charon to the elevator, which was crowded with other spirits, many of them a lot older than I was. Each of them had a green boarding pass like me.

"Nobody get any ideas," Charon announced to the room, pushing off two freeloaders in the same breath. "If I find out that someone spiked my coffee again, I will personally drag you to the Fields of Punishment. Understand?"

The doors shut with a cheerier ding than I expected from the entrance to the Underworld. Charon swiped a security card, and then the elevator was descending shakily. If I had still been alive, it would have been enough to give me a heart attack.

Suddenly the air became dirtier, with dust particles floating around aimlessly. For once, I was actually thankful that I wasn't breathing. Charon wrinkled his nose in disgust at whatever he was smelling. Around me, the other spirits's modern clothes changed to depressing gray robes. When I looked down at myself, I found that my own had not changed. Strange.

Charon's wardrobe had changed as well. Instead of a nice, Italian suit, he wore a dark robe that seemed to radiate death and darkness. His sunglasses were gone, and I looked away before I could see whatever evil was in his eyes. I had learned the hard way that looking into an immortal being's eyes was a good way to creep yourself out. His skin had become transparent, allowing me to see straight to his skull. I didn't even know if gods had skulls.

I suddenly got dizzy, and I realized it was because the direction had changed. In fact, _everything_ had changed. I rubbed my eyes and blinked hard.

The elevator was no longer an elevator. It was an old-fashioned barge, with an oar that Charon was pushing back and forth over either side. We were going forward, propelled through the strangest river I had ever seen. It wasn't really a river; it was more of a flowing garbage heap. Charon's oar batted away a golden pocket watch, which shot away and bounced off a silver trophy. All around us, random things floated around.

If I needed to anymore, I would have gulped. We were floating across the River Styx—the same river that many people swore upon. An oath upon the Styx was binding, with horrible punishments for those who broke it. Unless you were a god, in which case your kid usually got punished. Or, in my case, _was_ the punishment.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts. I didn't like to think about that.

"Polluted, isn't it?" Charon said, misinterpreting my head movement. "For millennia, humans have been tossing everything you can in the Styx. Hopes, dreams, etcetera. Absolutely terrible."

I stared at the distant shore, which was slowly getting closer. It glowed with a sickly green light. Overhead, stalactites dripped water down, landing in the barge with large splashes that went right through my body. Weird.

I tried not to panic as the shoreline of the Underworld came into view. Black sand and sharp-looking rocks stretched about three hundred feet inland, ending at the base of a dark stone wall. It was like the ultimate fence, and if I had to guess, I would say that it wrapped all the way around the Underworld. In the distance, a dog howled. It made a hellhound's growl seem like the voice of a singer.

Everything was happening too quickly. One minute I was alive and fending off a small army of monsters, and the next I'm cruising into the Underworld. It was so different from the world I was used to. All I wanted to do was curl up in a ball on the couch in my house, but I knew that was no longer an option.

The boat slid onto the black sand with a hiss similar to a snake's. I climbed out with the rest of the dead, trying not to pay attention to the green light that reminded me of poison. I walked past a little girl holding a ghostly teddy bear. Beside her, a slightly older boy silently shuffled along. I followed the other spirits up a well-worn path. They seemed to know where they were going.

When Annabeth had told me about the Underworld when she was tutoring me, I had imagined big, black gates like something out of the Lord of the Rings. Instead, the Underworld looked like the kind of security at a museum.

There were three different doorways under a huge black arch that read YOU ARE NOW ENTERING EREBUS. Each entrance had a strange metal detector with security cameras overhead. What they were hooked up to, I didn't know. Each station was manned by figures in dark robes who were just as intimidating as Charon.

I hesitated as the dead split into three lines. Two of them had ATTENDANT ON DUTY marked in big letters, but another read EZ DEATH. Comforting.

I stopped dead in my tracks as soon as I saw Cerberus. He was, essentially, a giant, three-headed dog of death. If I were alive, I would have peed my pants.

Luckily, he seemed not to have any interest in spirits of the dead. The little girl walked right underneath him without so much as blinking. Cerberus made a strange sound that almost sounded like laughter as a particularly tall spirit brushed its underbelly.

 _Great_ , I thought. _I'm dead, Cerberus is a giant teddy bear, and the EZ DEATH line is moving along just fine._

It was true. I wasn't exactly sure what EZ DEATH meant, but I was sure it wasn't good. Despite how slowly the other two lines were moving, I decided to take my chances with them. Picking the fastest of the two snail-like lines, I took my place and prayed for a quick wait.

 **x x x**

The line was not quick.

I wasn't sure how long I was down there for, but it had to of been a few days in the mortal world at least. But time was different down here, harder to read.

On the bright side, it gave me plenty of times to come to terms with being dead. It wasn't actually as bad as I thought it would be. Because I was dead, I didn't have to worry about eating, or drinking, or breathing.

Unfortunately, it also gave me plenty of time to think about the things I regretted. I regretted that I had never shown Bobby how to use a bow and arrow properly. I regretted that I had never gotten Lawrence the Father's Day gift he deserved. I regretted that I had never taken my school studies as seriously as I should have. I regretted that I had never given Liam his anniversary present. And I regretted that I had never told my friends the secret I had been working on for months.

Suddenly, the line moved forward, and it was my turn.

One of the ghouls in the dark robe scanned me with his metal detector and nodded to himself. "Alexandra Clayton. Cause of death: a crossbow bolt to the chest. Eighteen years of age...daughter of Artemis?" His dry voice was full of surprise. "I...well, let's get you to your trial."

 _Trial_. I had almost completely forgotten what I was standing in line for. At the mention of the trial, my stomach filled with dread, though I wasn't sure why. I had defeated a Titan, saved the gods from civil war. I knew where I _wasn't_ going.

The Underworld has four places where souls could end up. The first was the Fields of Punishment, reserved for, well...punishment. As the line had inched closer to a large black tent, I could just barely make it out in the distance. The first thing I saw was the rivers of lava. The next was the people forced to run buck naked through cactus patches. It was a place reserved for the worst of people.

The second place a soul could end up was the Fields of Asphodel. Basically, it was a medium place, designed for people who didn't do anything in their life. Grover had described it to me once as a "giant wheat field in Kansas."

The third was Elysium—the ultimate party for all eternity, reserved for heroes. If you were smart, you tried to end up there. Of course, you could always try for it three times and wind up on the _, a place for only the best of the best.

I figured the only place I knew I wasn't going was the Fields of Punishment. I wasn't evil, so in my opinion I didn't deserve to end up there. I mean, I hadn't murdered anyone or anything.

The ghoul in black robes escorted me towards the large black tent, where a large banner that read WELCOME, NEWLY DECEASED hung overhead. It was far from comforting.

The inside of the tent was even less so. Three judges dressed in robes of darkness sat on a bench that was elevated so that it hung in midair. I couldn't see their faces behind their masks of gold, but I imagined that they had been important people in life. The inside of the tent was dark, and they were the only things I could see—because they were the only things that mattered. They would decide my fate for all eternity.

I tried not to look nervous as I approached the judge's bench. All three of them stared at me from behind their golden masks. I couldn't tell if they were surprised to see me or just bored.

I expected somebody to announce who I was, but the judges already seemed to know. The ghoul that had escorted me left, and I was left alone with the judges.

No pressure.

 **So I have a theory: sequels don't get as much attention on this site. I'm perfectly okay with that, but it would be nice to get some reviews. This is a new Story, and I like to hear feedback: what I'm doing wrong, what's good, etc.**

 **Dumb Joke of the Day:**

 **I bought my friend an elephant for his room.**

 **He said "Thanks."**

 **i said, "Don't mention it."**


	3. FUNERALS ARE THE WORST

**FWI I decided to update twice today because I'm a nice person and I rote a chapter faster than I thought I would have.**

* * *

 **Liam**

All in all, it was a fairly nice funeral.

There was Grape Crush for all of the guests, and nobody wore fancy clothes—just hoodies and jeans and the like. There was even a nice campfire, though that was later used for the burning of her shroud.

Liam hated it. Normally, being at Camp Half-Blood was enough to put him in a good mood. Today, it did the opposite.

They had the funeral at Camp Half-Blood because it had been one of Alex's favorite places. She'd spent only two summers there, but she had made the most of them. She'd placed first in the hunting competitions every time (no surprise there), first in the archery competitions (also not a surprise) and was even fairly good at horseback riding. She had even formed a shaky alliance with the Apollo cabin, who usually complained about her flawless accuracy. Oh, and she was _amazing_ at capture the flag. The banner still had the symbol of Artemis on it from the last game the camp had played. She had snuck right past the opposing team by climbing through the trees and dropping down right next to the flag. It sounded amazing, but she had admitted to Liam later that being that high in the air for so long nearly gave her a heart attack. She was scared of heights. Or, she _had_ been, at least...

Of course, Camp Half-Blood was also one of the only places that could contain all of the demigods that came to say goodbye. The only other place was the school, but it hadn't seemed right to hold a funeral there.

They had the casket in the center of camp, near the dining pavilion. It was a closed casket—Alex hadn't liked people staring at her. Cooper was lying next to it and howling mournfully. There were some fifty chairs set up before it, but some people were still left standing. Beside the casket, a picture of her in the wilderness stood (it had been her first time actually _hunting_ with her family). And next to that, a small podium.

Annabeth had offered to give the eulogy. Lawrence was too emotional, and Bobby looked like he wanted to punch the next person to speak to him.

Liam sat in the front row, not feeling like talking to anyone or doing anything. His mother sat next to him, rubbing his shoulders comfortingly. She had really liked Alex, but he could tell that she was trying to keep it together for his sake. Beside his mother, his sister Jasmine sat. Her posture was as straight as ever, but Liam saw that her eyes were red. Alex had even made an impression on his sister. He would have laughed if his chest didn't feel like somebody had dropped an anvil on it.

 _It's not fair,_ he kept thinking. Most half-bloods died before they reached forty, but Alex had been one of the most powerful demigods he had ever met. She had killed a Titan single handedly! It just didn't make sense to him that she could be snuffed out so easily. Hell, he had expected her to outlive _him_.

 _It's not fair._

Annabeth's eyes were red as she approached the podium. Like most of them, she was wearing a black t-shirt and dark jeans. When she reached the stand, she cleared her throat and wiped her eyes before beginning.

"When I first saw Alex," she said, her voice barely loud enough to be heard, "she had been sandwiched between two demigods in Goode's office."

Annabeth went on, but her words stirred a memory for Liam. _When I first saw Alex…_

 _It had been the middle of October. Liam was running late for school, and had run through the front doors, nearly dropping his project for science. Of course, the morning rush hadn't been over, so he had been forced to push his way past the crowd gathering in the front of the school._

 _Suddenly the crowd parted, and Liam nearly dropped his project again, but for a different reason._

 _There was a girl standing there. Not just any girl either. She was so beautiful that he momentarily lost the ability to breathe. But she carried herself in a different way than the other pretty girls at school. She wore simple jeans and a hoodie, with no makeup on her face. She also appeared to be trying to make her way to the office, but the crowd was just too thick. He could see the panic behind her eyes (one green and one brown, oddly), but she kept her face impassive. No, this was no ordinary girl._

 _Liam was about to walk up to her and give her directions, or maybe just babble like an idiot, but in a moment her resolve had visibly hardened and she had forced her way through the crowd, gone._

 _For a moment, Liam just stood there like an idiot, staring at the spot where she had just stood. Then the bell rang and he rushed off to Mr. Brunner's._

 _When she walked into his first period Greek class a few minutes later, he about fell out of his seat. Alex Clayton, Chiron had said her name was. He forced himself not to stare as she sat next to his half-sister._

 _Then he had walked into the lunch room, only to find her sitting in his spot at the lunch table. He wasn't sure if it was a good or a bad thing that he kept running into her. When he saw her, he wanted to say something suave, something awesome to sweep her off her feet. Instead, he settled for saying something really intelligent, like, "Hey! The newbie is sitting in my seat!"_

 _She had turned to appraise him then, and Liam had a hard time not gaping as she analyzed him. Her asymmetrically colored eyes had an intelligent light to them, and if Percy hadn't interrupted, Liam would have blurted out something that would have embarrassed himself. He wished he could have known then that this girl would change everything._

Liam snapped out the memory feeling worse than he had before. He'd secretly had a crush on her from the moment he met her, but he had fallen for her hard after Selina's party. Just remembering that made him want to hide somewhere where nobody could see him cry. Instead, he tried to focus on what Annabeth was saying.

She went on to describe how Alex had been courageous in fighting all sorts of monsters, including Chelsea the hidden empousa. But Annabeth also described Alex's kindness, and her unwillingness to not help anyone or leave them behind.

Tactfully, Annabeth left out how Alex had been homeless for several years. That was a secret she had only shared with her inner circle of friends, and Liam doubted that she would have wanted it shared with everyone.

When Annabeth was finished with the eulogy, they turned to the campfire, where Percy and Beckendorf were lifting Alex's shroud. It was a glowing silver color, with the symbol of a moon and a bow intertwined in gold stitching. It was the same symbol that adorned their banner for capture the flag. With a few manly sniffles, Percy and Beckendorf lit the banner on fire.

Liam felt tears well up in his eyes as he watched the banner be consumed by the flames.

 _It isn't fair._

 **x x x**

After the funeral, Alex's inner circle of friends went to the Clayton household to go through her things. She hadn't had a will, but typically when a half-blood died, their possessions went to their closest friends and next of kin.

Lawrence led them to her room silently. Liam felt horrible, but Alex's father must have felt worse. He had just gotten his daughter back, only to have her taken away by a black crossbow bolt.

Liam almost cried again when he saw her room. It was just as neat as he remembered it. Her clothes were folded neatly and her books were placed on a tall shelf in the corner. A spare quiver hung from a coat rack next to her bed. The walls were painted purple, and a picture hung on the wall: the first day at Camp Half-Blood. Everyone from their lunch table had been in the photo. The room even smelled like her: pine trees and a hint of Grape Crush.

Liam swallowed a lump in his throat as Lawrence spoke.

"She would have wanted you six to have her things," he said, his voice cracking. "I'll be downstairs when you're done."

The older man turned and left, surreptitiously wiping his eyes. That left Liam, Thalia, Percy, Annabeth, Grover, and Beckendorf alone in Alex's room.

All was silent for about five minutes as the group surveyed their surroundings. Liam sat on her bed, listening to the squeaks the mattress made as he did. He rubbed his face as the others looked around the room. On one shelf, she had placed strange souvenirs. There was the manticore spike from her mother's puzzle room in Atlantis next to a harpoon (also from Atlantis). There was also what looked like an albino hellhound claw, from when she had discovered that Lawrence was her father. Phoebe's broken spearhead was off to the side, glowing golden. There were also artifacts of her more recent exploits: a strange silver arrowhead (from when Artemis's huntresses had tried to recruit her and failed), a large steel bolt (from a cyclops that had tried to eat her), and a large horse shoe from a strange horse-like monster. Her Nemean Lion's pelt/jacket was folded up on the shelf as well, along with her silver watch and hunting knife.

 _THUD!_

Percy's fist slammed into the stone wall by the window, shattering the silence.

"Styx!" he shouted, though whether it was from the pain of punching a brick wall or from the pain of losing a friend, Liam couldn't tell.

"Percy," Annabeth said, laying a hand on his shoulder. Percy seemed to calm down a little at her touch. The two had been dating a little longer than Liam and Alex had been.

"It's not fair," the Son of Poseidon grumbled, echoing Liam's thoughts. "She shouldn't have…"

"Alex would have wanted us to move on," Beckendorf said. He was a big, burly kid with muscles the size of Liam's head. Despite his tough exterior, Liam knew that Hephaestus's son was really a big teddy bear. His real name was Charles, but everyone called him by his last name.

And as much as Liam knew Beckendorf was right, it still felt like somebody had stabbed him in the chest with the claws of a hellhound. Move on? How could Liam possibly move on? Alex was the most amazing person he'd ever met. He was never going to meet somebody like her ever again.

Liam bit his tongue to keep himself from biting Beckendorf's head off. Beckendorf meant well. He just couldn't know how much his words could hurt.

"Where do you think she went?" Thalia asked, sitting on the bed next to Liam.

"Elysium," Annabeth replied immediately. "No doubt."

Liam tried to imagine Alex sitting in paradise, sipping Grape Crush out of a tall glass and partying with other heroes. The thought cheered him a little bit. If anyone deserved that, she did.

"Come on," someone said. It took Liam a moment to realize that the voice was his. "Alex definitely wouldn't want us moping around her room."

That launched them into action. They began looking through her things, hesitantly assigning them to new masters. They left her souvenirs alone, though. It felt wrong to touch those.

Liam paused when he saw a small wooden carving of a pine tree. It was left by the bedside, like it had great significance. Beckendorf appeared over Liam's shoulder.

"Is that the one?" he asked.

Liam nodded mutely. Two years ago, when Alex was being controlled by a half-empousa named Derek, Liam had given her the carving in an attempt to snap her out of it. It had worked for a moment, too. He didn't realize that she had kept it.

Liam picked up the wooden carving and rolled it around in his hands, feeling the familiar weight of the wood in his hands. A terrible sadness bubbled up in his chest, and he dropped the tree on the floor suddenly.

He swallowed his grief with great difficulty and leaned over to pick up the carving.

Liam stopped.

Something was carved on the bottom of the pine tree. He didn't remember carving that on the bottom. Had Alex done it?

He picked up the tree and examined the number carved at the bottom.

 _12_.

 **Ooo yes, the number twelve. What could it mean? The twelve olympians? The twelve days of christmas? The twelve times I walked into a spider web today (by the way, it is horrifying, I do not recommend it)?**

 **Also Alex's chapters are gonna be a little shorter for a little while. Sorry i'll try my best to put some meat on the written bones, but she does have one chapter which is only a couple hundred words long. Again, I apologize.**

 **Ahem. My mom gave me this joke, so we'll see how it goes.**

 **What do you call a man with no arms and no legs in a swimming pool?**

 **Bob.**


	4. I AM JUDGED

**Again, sorry that this chapter is a little shorter. And that my A/Ns are full of typos along with everything else because apparently I'm only capable of catching mistakes AFTER I publish them. Sorry!**

* * *

 **Alex**

The judges didn't ask me any questions, like I expected them to. Instead, they looked into my mind, pulling thoughts and memories from my head like picking flowers.

It was a very strange feeling, having my memories sorted like that. The best way I can describe it is...like straining spaghetti.

"Defeated Phoebe," one judge said, his voice deep and rough. "Prevented a civil war between the gods."

"But monster attacks have increased sevenfold since she was killed!" the second judge protested.

"Hush!" the third judge said. "This conversation is not for ears of the dead."

The judges turned back to my thoughts in unison, their golden masks staring—literally—into my soul.

"One-thousand and fifty-nine counts of theft," the second judge said, disgust in his voice. "A common burglar."

"She was homeless!" The first judge seemed to be on my side. The second judge was not. I wondered where the third judge stood.

"A choice that she made," the third judge chimed in. "She chose to leave the foster care."

Finally I found the courage to speak. "They were beating the children! What was I supposed to do?"

The judges ignored me, which I found frustrating to no end.

"She did endure beatings," the first judge argued. "It shows her strength of character."

"Not so," the second judge said. I was starting to dislike him. "That merely shows her physical strength. She still ran away, leaving the other children to their fate. A cowardly act."

Cowardly? Why, that little...I was beginning to realize that this trial was in no way weighted in my favor. My greatest achievement—defeating Phoebe—had barely been spoken of for more than a few moments. And monster attacks had increased since her death? How could that possibly be my fault? Was I just supposed to let her continue ruining my life? If I had, I would have been kicked to the Underworld two years earlier. Then, of course, I would have been accused of cowardice.

"We must convene," the third judge, a note of warning in his voice. He waved his hand towards me before I could react, and instantly everything went black.

I wasn't sure how long I was out for, but when I came back around the first judge did not look happy. Well, as unhappy as he could look behind his mask. His arms were crossed. The two other judges were unreadable.

"Not enough evil," the third judge said. His next words cut into my chest like the blows from a hammer. "Not enough good, either. I am sorry, Alexandra Clayton. Your soul will be consigned to the Fields of Asphodel."

 **x x x**

There was only one word to describe the Fields of Asphodel: _boring._

Seriously. It was like a large crowd had gathered for a sports game, maybe football, but the game had been cancelled. So all of the fans were left wandering around the field like homeless people. And I should know—I used to be homeless.

The Fields of Asphodel had black grass that had been trampled underfoot by thousands of spirits wandering aimlessly around. Every once in awhile, I could see a black poplar tree sprouting from the ground, but that was it. Nothing else except the dead, whispering nonsense as they passed.

Grover was wrong. A wheat field in Kansas sounded _entertaining_ compared to this.

I sat at the base of a poplar tree and looked up at the top of the cavern. Large stalactites bigger than my house hung overhead. If I were still alive, I would have to worry about being impaled by one of them. That was the one upside of being confined to this place for all eternity.

I couldn't help looking for familiar faces in the crowd of dead souls, but I didn't see anyone I knew. Most of the spirits looked angry or unbearably sad. I was somewhere in the middle.

I had been cheated, for whatever reason. Why? Why would anyone be concerned with where I ended up once I was dead? It wasn't like I could tell anyone what I had discovered while I was down here—a fact that irked me.

I wondered briefly if I could Iris Message someone who was still alive, but I immediately dismissed it. Even if I still had a drachma left, there was no source of water in the Asphodel Fields, nothing to create a rainbow. And besides, I wasn't even sure if it would work. I was sure being stuck in some otherworldly cavern for the dead was _terrible_ for reception.

I wasn't sure what was going to happen to me while I was here for all eternity, and that almost scared me more than the Fields of Punishment. Most of the spirits seemed to have no idea who they were, and they muttered nonsense as they passed me by. Would I become like them one day?

I stood, deciding to do something with my not-life. There was a spirit over there that wasn't moving. I was going to talk to him.

In a couple of ways, the spirit sort of reminded me of Liam. They shared the same brown hair, though this spirit wore it in a messy style, like they had just rolled out of bed. They even shared the same green eyes. But this spirit looked like he was thirteen, and there was nothing in his eyes except a terrible tiredness. He wore a gray robe just like everybody else—except me.

"Hello," I said to the spirit. He turned to face me, looking even more haggard. "Who are you?"

Okay, stupid question. The spirit looked at me blankly, but then he said, "I don't know."

Gods, he even _sounded_ like Liam. A younger version, perhaps, but still him. I pushed the ache in my heart aside.

"Okay," I said, trying to think of something else to ask him. "Well, how did you die?"

That seemed to spark something in the spirit's eyes. "I…" he started. He straightened suddenly. "I was hunted by a monster."

Now we were getting somewhere. "Were you a demigod?" I asked.

The young spirit shook his head. "No. I...was a mortal that could see through the mist."

I remembered what Liam had told me about those. He said that some monsters hated mortals who could see through the Mist because it ruined their disguises. He had also told me his brother Jake had been killed for the same reason, and I instantly felt sympathy for the younger spirit.

"What happened?" I asked him, hoping to jog the spirit's memory. If he could remember, maybe there was hope for me.

The spirit thought about that for a moment, thinking hard. "I...my friend and I were messing with a draconae. He was a...son of Hermes, I think? Yes, that sounds right. We ran away, but the monster still found me at my home in Nashville."

No way.

"What was your friend's name?" I asked, my mind dizzy with shock. Maybe if he could remember his friend's name, he could remember his own. Then I would know for sure.

That seemed to be the hardest question for the spirit to answer. For a solid minute, he just stood there while I waited in anticipation.

Finally, he said, "Alfie."

I gasped. " _Jake?_ "

Jake looked at me, a fog rolling away in his eyes. "Yes, that was my name. How do you know me?"

I was so shocked that I staggered forward, thinking of Liam, when my hand collided with Jake's shoulder.

Suddenly, I was sucked into a memory faster than I could blink.

 _It had been a Saturday, two weeks after we had escaped from Atlantis. By this point, my broken ribs had healed fine and my arm was as good as new, thanks to the nectar and ambrosia I had consumed by the dozen. I had just gotten my driver's license as well, making my idea perfect._

 _I had asked Liam out at school on Friday, and he had agreed. But I hadn't told him where we were going, so he was delightfully clueless as I picked him up at his mom's house in a large minivan._

" _Where did you get this?" he asked with a laugh._

 _I shrugged. "Lawrence finally got a car other than his police cruiser." I handed him a black blindfold. "I hope you don't get carsick."_

 _Liam scoffed and tied the blindfold around his face, placing his glasses in his lap next to his teak cane._ "Please. _I can fly, and you're asking me if I get carsick?"_

" _Well," I said, starting to pull the car out of his driveway, "there's a plastic bag in the middle if you change your mind."_

 _It wasn't that long of a drive to our destination, and as I handed the man in the booth our tickets through the car window, Liam took a long sniff through his nose._

" _Are we where I think we are?"_

" _You weren't supposed to be able to guess!"_

" _Sorry. We're_ not _where I think we are. Better?"_

 _I sighed and pulled the car into a parking space. "Fine, you can take off the blindfold."_

" _Yes!" Liam ripped the dark blindfold off of his head, only to reveal that he was staring at a full parking lot. "Um...what?"_

 _I smiled, glad that I could still surprise him. "Here, let me show you."_

 _I walked around and helped him get out of the minivan. Then I led him to the trunk, where the true surprise was. In front of us yet behind the car was a large screen in the middle of the parking lot, where an ad for popcorn was already playing._

" _You remembered!" Liam exclaimed, smiling widely._

 _My stomach was so full of butterflies that it took me a moment to respond. "Well, yeah. You said you liked drive-in movies, so...here we are. But it gets better."_

 _I turned around and opened the trunk with a flourish, revealing the items I had packed there. There was a mini-cooler filled to the brim with Grape Crush, Mountain Dew, and root beer, along with a little pint of ice cream. There were also some pillows and a blanket in the corner. With the way I had parked the car, it provided the perfect way to watch a drive-in movie._

" _Woah," Liam said from behind me._

 _I wasn't sure why I was so nervous. But his next words pushed that all away as he wrapped his arms around me._

" _It's perfect," he said in my ear. "And so are you."_

I snapped out of the memory, gasping like a beached fish.

"What the hell was that!"

 **UgH I made myself cringe when I read over this. If anyone has a different recommendation for the ending of this chapter, it would be welcome. And the best way to do that is through a review! Seriously, though. I don't have that many views on this story yet (what a surpise) so any tips on what I can do better would be great. Thanks!**

 **My dad gave me this joke. It's a sequel to the previous one.**

 **What do you call a man with no arms and no legs hanging on a wall?**

 **Art.**


	5. LIAM MAKES AN OBVIOUS DISCOVERY

**I feel like my chapters haven't been long enough. Are you guys okay with the length?**

* * *

 **Liam**

Liam answered the door with a scowl on his face until he saw who it was.

"Hey, Beckendorf," he said, stepping aside so that the blacksmith/tinkerer could enter the house.

It had been three days since the funeral, and Liam's mood had gotten progressively worse. First, he had found out that he had failed his Pre-Calc test, which meant that he would have to retake it. Then, he had discovered that all of his woodworking tools had rusted, and he didn't have the money to replace them. Oh, and the number that Alex had carved on the bottom of the pine tree carving had tortured him for the past seventy-two hours.

Beckendorf held up a six pack of root beer. "I brought help."

Liam closed the door behind him and brought Beckendorf to the living room. Liam's mother was at work and Jasmine was working in her room, so he basically had the house to himself. The living room wasn't really anything special; just a mismatched series of furniture and a brown carpet that used to be white.

Liam cracked open one of the root beers with a sigh as Beckendorf did the same. They set the six pack between them on the couch.

"How you holding up?" Beckendorf asked.

Liam shrugged, and he felt the pine tree move in his pocket. "About as well as expected."

Beckendorf took a long sip out of his can. "I miss her too, Liam."

 _Not as much as I do,_ Liam thought before he could stop himself. It was a stupid thought. Who cared which of her friends missed her the most? She was still gone, and she wasn't coming back.

Liam stared at his can without responding.

Beckendorf sighed. "Any insights on that tree?" Liam looked up sharply, making Beckendorf laugh. "Yeah, you're not the only one who saw that. Why didn't you tell any of the others?"

Liam shrugged. "I don't know. It could be nothing, but…"

"It could also be a message," Beckendorf finished.

"Yeah," Liam agreed.

"So what does it say?"

He pulled the pine tree out of his pocket. It looked just as plain and ordinary as before. "Nothing except the number twelve."

"And you have no idea what it means?" Beckendorf asked. Liam could already see the gears in his head turning.

"It could be the number of major gods, the number of months, or the number of Starbucks near her house. So in other words, no."

Beckendorf took the pine tree and examined the bottom, where the number _12_ was carved. "Could it be a time?"

Liam frowned. "A time? It…"

He paused. It couldn't be that easy, could it? Maybe he had just been overthinking it because she had some Athena blood in her as well.

He checked the clock over the mantle. It wasn't yet noon. "Well, there's only one way to find out. Feel like going for a walk?"

 **x x x**

They arrived at Central Park at 11:57 in the morning. It was pretty busy, with some people doing yoga in one corner and a group of kids playing football in the other. Between the two groups, people were trying to capture pictures. So, a typical day. It was easy to see how Alex could have lived in one of the trees for four years. Nobody was even looking up at the pine trees.

Liam and Beckendorf came to a stop at the base of a large pine tree. The only feature that distinguished it from the rest was the small pile of six weathered stones at the base of its trunk.

"So this is where she lived," Beckendorf said, examining the tree.

"Yeah," Liam said, running his hand over the bark. "She took me here once."

He remembered it very clearly. It had been a clear summer day, right before sophomore year ended. They'd gone for a walk, and somehow they had ended up at the base of her tree. It was the first time she'd told him that she loved him. He'd walked on clouds (literally for about five minutes) for the rest the day.

Liam wiped away a tear at the memory. He couldn't afford to lose his cool in the middle of the park.

A clocktower in the distance chimed as it turned noon.

Liam and Beckendorf stepped back, watching the tree in anticipation. For a moment, nothing happened. Then another. And another, and another, until Beckendorf's watch read 12:30.

"Well," Beckendorf said, patting Liam on the shoulder. "It was just an idea. I'm sure there's some other reason for the number. We can think of something else."

"Yeah," Liam said, staring up at the tree. "Something else."

 **x x x**

 _ZAP!_

Liam woke with a start, accidentally sending a bolt of lightning into his alarm clock.

"Great," he muttered, rolling out of bed and searching blindly for his cane. His foot was _killing_ him. It felt like Phoebe had severed his Achille's tendon all over again. Add the fact that he'd just had one of his worst nightmares ever and that he'd just barbecued his alarm clock, and he was about ready to blow a hole in the roof.

He'd done that once. His mother had not been pleased.

Finally, his hands landed on his cane and he stumbled to his feet. Whenever his foot ached like this, his therapist told him to walk it off. But Liam found it worked better to fly it off. He grabbed his glasses and opened his window, feeling the night air on his skin. Liam wasn't sure what time it was because of his recently broken alarm clock, but he was sure it was somewhere around midnight. Overhead, the moon shone brightly through the clouds. He hadn't seen Artemis at her daughter's funeral, but if he had any doubt that the goddess was mourning, seeing the sky lit up so brightly like that erased it.

Liam hooked his cane into his belt and clumsily climbed out of his window, not caring that the cool air made his skin turn into gooseflesh. He wasn't wearing anything but shorts and a t-shirt.

For a while, Liam just flew around aimlessly. He hadn't had a nightmare about his older brother Jake's death in several years. What did it mean that he'd had one now?

He didn't even realize where he had gone until it was too late and he was standing barefoot in front of Alex's pine tree.

But something was wrong. The light from the moon seemed to be lighting up the tree like it was a glow stick.

For a moment, Liam just gaped at it. Then he checked his watch. 12:00. It _had_ been a time! They had just come twelve hours too soon!

Liam glanced around Central Park to make sure that nobody was watching. Then he began to climb the tree.

It was nowhere near as easy as Alex had described it to be. Even though he was a Son of Zeus, the Lord of the Sky, climbing a tree that tall was no easy feat, especially with his foot being messed up. Eventually, he gave up and just floated himself upwards. He stopped when he saw a branch. _The_ branch.

It was glowing more than any other part of the tree. Liam sat himself on the branch, one leg hanging off either side. Soon, he realized the source of the glow.

It was her initials.

The letters AC were glowing so brightly that Liam had to shield his eyes. He scooted forward, feeling the carvings in the wood with his hands. After a moment, something popped off and into his hands. The glow faded.

Liam peered at the object in his hand. It appeared that the piece of bark that held her initials had been transformed into a lid of some sort.

He felt his chest fill with pride. He was the one who had taught her how to make a compartment like this.

Liam thrust his hand into the shallow compartment and dug around. His fingers closed around two rolled up pieces of parchment and a thrill of excitement ran through him. She _had_ left a message!

He brought the two scrolls out and almost opened one before he realized two things: one, that the light in the tree had probably served as a beacon for every monster in a three-mile radius, and two, that there wasn't enough light to read by.

Liam hugged the two scrolls to his chest and took off into the night sky, ignoring the small scratches he received from the branches in the tree.

When he reached his house, he practically crashed through his open window. He landed in a heap on the floor and hastily dragged himself to his feet, ignoring the throbbing in his crippled foot.

He clicked on his light and opened the first scroll, recognizing Alex's handwriting.

 _I've been looking into The Syndicate,_ it read, _and it doesn't look good._

 _Just in case I forget, TS is the bounty hunter organization that Lindsay is associated with—the daughter of Apollo who was hunting Chelsea._

 _Anyway, TS has been around since the beginning of humanity, ever since the gods began running around having kids with mortals. At first, they did actually start out as your average bounty hunter association—hunting monsters, making sure demigods got home before dark, stuff like that. Then things got worse._

 _The Syndicate began focusing on money to pay for expenses in hunting monsters and protecting half-bloods. But they figured out that they were over-extending themselves, so they started to expand. They started protecting shipments, protecting regular mortals, stuff like that. But then they started demigod trading, just like Frederick had. They made a ton of money this way, but they lost sight of what they were originally created to do. They even started hunting other demigods._

 _Eventually the other demigods stood up to them—a group of maybe seven of the most powerful half-bloods at the time. They totally kicked the crap out of TS, and the organization slunk into the shadows. Nobody ever heard from them again, and most people assumed that the bounty hunters had given up or died off or something._

 _Then after the Civil War—once the gods had moved to America, I think—The Syndicate reemerged. They engaged in more reserved activities, closer to what they had been created to do. But of course, corruption set in, and they became even worse than before._

 _And now they're here, in New York. I think that the black crossbow bolt at Christmas that almost skewered me was one of theirs. Zeus had put a bounty on my head, a rather large one. TS wanted to collect. But then he removed it when we got the Aetherium Crown and stopped Phoebe, and I think they decided to leave me alone._

Liam's hands were shaking, but he opened the next scroll. Alex's handwriting had become sloppier, like she had been writing in a hurry. The ink looked more recent as well.

 _I take it back. The Syndicate DID NOT lose interest in me._

 _I think they've been keeping tabs on me for the past two years. The other day, Liam and I were on a date at the zoo when I noticed some guy in sunglasses and a trench coat—really? A trench coat?—and I realized that I recognized the stalker. He had been at the drive-in movie theater for my first date with Liam, the adoption ceremony for Bobby. He was even at the concert that Liam took me to!_

 _I confronted him an hour ago. He was a monster—some kind of cyclops that I've never seen before. I killed him, but not before he said that my days were "numbered." I didn't even know that cyclopes knew what the word "numbered" meant!_

 _I've been keeping the others out of this for their own safety, but I think it's time I tell them about what I've discovered. Tomorrow, I'll tell Liam on our anniversary. I hope he'll understand. I hate keeping things from him._

A droplet of water dripped onto the page, and Liam quickly wiped his eyes. He wanted to curl up in a ball and never move again, but anger quickly replaced that urge.

If he had any doubt before, this confirmed it. Alex hadn't been killed by a monster.

A demigod had killed her.

 **Okay, I feel like that was obvious, but Liam is a little thick, alright?**

 **Have I mentioned these great things called REVIEWS? They're very beneficial, especially to the authors of stories like this one who would like feedback. Jackie (AKA me) needs your help! YOU can HELP with a REVIEW!**

 **(Was that clear? I feel like that was clear.)**

 **This next joke is for all you science nerds out there.**

 **Two atoms are walking down the street together. The first atom turns and says, "Hey, you just stole an electron from me!"**

 **"Are you sure?" asks the second atom.**

 **To which the first atom replies, "Yeah, I'm positive!"**


	6. I HAVE A STARTLINGLY SHORT EPIPHANY

**I APOLOGIZE FOR THE SHORTNESS OF THIS CHAPTER. Originally, it was part of a future chapter, but in order to get the timelines to line up, I had to make this part its own chapter. But fear not! The next chapter is veeeery long, just to make up for it.**

 **Thanks for the reviews, guys! Y'all made my day :)**

* * *

I keeled over, falling into the black grass with a _thud._ What had just happened? I had touched Jake, and it was like I had been _forced_ into a memory. I didn't mind, because it was one of my favorites, but my head felt like somebody had put it in the microwave on the popcorn setting. I didn't even realize it was possible to get headaches once you were dead!

"Woah, are you all right?" Jake asked me, offering a hand to help me up.

I ignored it and stood, running my hands through my hair. Why had I flashed back? "I...I'm fine."

Jake cocked his head at me, a very Liam-like gesture. "You...you know Liam?"

I took a step back, shocked. "Could you see what I just saw?"

"Only bits and pieces," he replied, looking confused. He looked so much like Liam it made my chest hurt. "You know him?"

"Yeah," I said, feeling like my heart would implode. I missed him—missed all my friends— _so_ badly. "Yeah, I know him."

I sat against another poplar tree, and Jake stood over me, looking troubled. "How has he been for the past ten years?"

"Good," I said, massaging my temples. "Really good."

Jake still looked confused, so I told him everything that had happened in the last two years, starting with how I met Liam and ending with my death. I left out the more personal details, but I could tell that Jake still suspected.

"My brother," he said, sitting next to me on the ground. "You really care about him, don't you?"

"More than anything," I immediately said, feeling my throat close up.

It hit me then. I would never see my friends or family again. All of them were heroes in their own right, and would undoubtedly be sent to Elysium. I was alone here.

I wanted to be sad—I wanted to cry—but I was angry instead. Whoever was responsible for locking me up in here was going to pay, whether I was dead or not. I just needed a plan.

"Why do you think my memory reacted like that?" I asked Jake.

He shrugged. "Most people here forget who they are. For whatever reason, you haven't yet. Maybe because I had forgotten, you helped jog my memory with your own. Sort of like jumpstarting a car, I guess."

 _Yep, he's Liam's brother_ , I thought. _Nerdiness runs in the family._

I stood, a dim idea forming in my brain. "Do you think you can help me remember long enough?"

"Remember who you are? Sure." Jake stood as well. "Long enough for what?"

I swallowed looking up at the cavernous ceiling. "Long enough for me to get out of here."

 **Again, sorry for the length of this chapter. I thpically like to go longer, but oh well.**

 **I really am grateful for the reviews, guys. They help me when I'm discouraged and help me figure out things I need to fix. So thanks again, and please keep reviewing!**

 **Why did the skelton go to the party alone?**

 **He had no body to go with him!**


	7. LIAM HAS INTESTINAL ISSUES

**Hey, so I felt guilty about having a short chapter—I hate it when authors do that sometimes. So, I come bearing gifts—two updates in one day! Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Liam**

"Are you sure about this?" Beckendorf asked.

Liam nodded, wiping a bead of sweat off of his forehead. "Yeah. It's the only way."

Beckendorf looked over his shoulder and swallowed. "Silena's going to kill me if she finds out."

"Not if Lindsay kills you first."

"You know I don't like that kind of humor."

"Who said I was joking?" Liam walked past Beckendorf. "You coming or not?"

He heard Beckendorf sigh and follow him. Together, they walked into Starbucks.

The inside of the coffee shop was fairly standard: steel gray walls, a black tiled floor, and flies buzzing around near the ceiling. Lindsay was waiting for them by the window.

Liam hadn't seen the bounty hunter since the incident with Chelsea, but she looked just as he remembered her. Lindsay was a little taller now, but her red hair hadn't changed a bit, nor had her brown eyes. He half-expected her to be dressed in her old cheerleader garb, but she was dressed in simple jeans and a blouse.

"Hey, guys!" she said, a little too high-pitched for Liam's ears. "I haven't seen you in forever!"

 _There's a reason for that,_ Liam thought as Lindsay gave them each a hug. He had thought Lindsay was shallow before he knew she was a bounty hunter, and he hadn't trusted her after that.

Beckendorf and Liam sat on the other side of the table. Lindsay was drinking something that looked incredibly complicated to Liam.

He tried to be civil, he really did. But the words just slipped out.

"So you work for the Syndicate?" The words were harmless enough. But he couldn't help the disgust that snuck into his voice.

Lindsay's innocent demeanor dropped as she looked around the coffee shop in case someone was listening. "Yes," she said. "I work for them."

Liam had brought Alex's notes to Beckendorf the moment he had finished reading them. Beckendorf had considered taking the information to the others, but they both agreed that they needed proof first. So they had contacted Lindsay, and things had taken off from there.

"What does the Syndicate do?" Beckendorf said, stomping on Liam's foot under the table.

Lindsay shrugged. "Hunting monsters. Nothing too big."

"How much does that usually pay?" Liam asked, remembering how Lindsay had enrolled in Goode just to hunt Chelsea.

"More than you'd think," she replied. She narrowed her eyes at them. "Why?"

"Oh, um…" Liam started. _Well, my dead girlfriend was looking into your organization and then they killed her. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you_?

"We have a friend that's interested in joining up," Beckendorf said suddenly. "Uh...we just wanted to check it out first."

"We like to look out for our friends," Liam added.

Lindsay crossed her arms and sat back in her chair. For a moment, he could tell that she was analyzing their lie. All of their proof depended on her for a moment.

"Okay," she eventually said. "I can give you guys a tour of our facility here in New York if you want."

So Alex had been right. The Syndicate _was_ in New York. Now they just needed to find evidence to back up their claims.

Beckendorf and Liam quickly agreed to follow Lindsay to the "facility" and waited outside Starbucks while she paid for her drink.

"We didn't plan for this," Beckendorf muttered, looking unhappy.

"It's the best chance we have to find evidence," Liam replied in a low voice. "Besides, if we get into trouble, you can use one of your awesome devices, and I can fly." That should be enough to get them out of trouble, right? Liam tried his best to keep his apprehension from his face. More than ever, he wished Alex was with them. If she couldn't talk her way out of the situation, she could definitely fight her way out of it. But he was just Liam.

"Alright," Lindsay said suddenly, making him jump. "It's just this way."

Beckendorf and Liam followed closely behind her. Liam was trying his best to look casual, but it wasn't very easy. He kept wondering if Lindsay was leading them into a trap. Every time somebody passed them on the street, he questioned if they were a monster in disguise.

Lindsay led them past a series of store fronts, eventually stopping in front of a classic style barber shop. It had a colorful column out front, with a big glass window that read MAMA MARTHA'S BARBER SHOP in big, cursive letters. Liam squinted at the sign for a moment, sorting out the letters in his head. His dyslexia wasn't as bad as some of the other demigods, but cursive lettering always made his brain ache.

Lindsay led them inside, which didn't seem right. Liam had expected a bunker in the woods, not a barber shop in the middle of the city. It seemed more like something a monster would operate in hopes of catching a demigod. Annabeth and Percy had even told him that Medusa had been running a gas station in New Jersey somewhere.

A bell chimed overhead as they walked in. The shop smelled like shaving cream and hairspray. In the corner, a series of swivel chairs were placed in front of a couple of mirrors. In the center of the room, an elderly woman in hawaiian print clothing stood at a counter, knitting a scarf.

"Martha," Lindsay said as they entered. "I've brought some _guests_."

The old woman looked up at them, and Liam had to resist the urge to wince. Her face was wrinkled so badly that she looked like a piece of leather. She also had a bad tan, with a circle of pale skin around her eyes, giving her the impression of a raccoon.

"Lindsay," the old woman croaked. "How's the weather?"

Lindsay rolled her eyes. "I had to leave my umbrella at home. Honestly, do you have to keep up with the code phrase? You know it's me."

Martha shrugged, and Liam could have sworn he heard one of the woman's bones crack. "You never know if it could be one of the juniors playing a trick. Right this way."

Liam didn't understand. How could someone play a trick? Unless they looked exactly like Lindsay, of course, but that was impossible. Nobody had that kind of magic.

Martha moved a bobblehead out of the way and pressed a red button underneath it. Instantly, the stone wall at the end of the store opened up to reveal a steel door.

"Come on," Lindsay told Beckendorf and Liam, stepping towards the door. "I'll introduce you to the boss."

Martha glared at them as they passed, and Liam couldn't help but wonder if this woman _was_ some kind of monster. She was certainly scary enough on her own.

"What do you think?" Liam muttered to Beckendorf as they passed through the door and the wall closed up again behind them.

"I'm thinking that it uses some kind of tri-cylinder suspension on an axlerod—"

"I was talking about the woman out front, Beck."

"Oh. She sort of reminds me of my aunt."

That was easy for him to say. Everyone in Beckendorf's family was probably as buff or scary as he was. Liam, on the other hand, had earned his muscles the hard way.

The passageway that Lindsay led them through was dark and smelled strange. On one wall, Liam could have sworn he saw mushrooms and fungus growing, but when he blinked it was gone. They walked on for a while, and Liam noticed that the path angled slightly downwards. They were headed underground.

Liam had felt a little cramped before, but when he realized that his claustrophobia kicked in full force. He was used to the open sky and feeling the wind on his face—not being trapped underground in a cramped passageway where air was continuously recycled.

Sweat broke out on his forehead. He wasn't sure how long he could be in here for. Every fiber of his being wanted to run back to the surface, but he reminded himself that he was doing this for Alex. If someone from the Syndicate really had killed her, they would have some sort of record of it here.

Suddenly the passageway opened up into a large cavern. Well, not really a cavern. It was more like a parking garage that had gotten buried underground. There was even a half-buried car.

Torches that didn't give off smoke hung on the cement walls. The cavern seemed to stretch for half a mile at the least, but Liam could also see little doorways leading off to different places. People milled about in the garage, running from place to place urgently. Many of them seemed to be demigods, with celestial bronze weapons hanging from their belts. There were even a few satyrs running about, though most of them had tin cans sticking out of their mouths.

Lindsay led them into a passageway leading from the main cavern. This one was only a little more spacious than the last, but with all the people rushing through it, it felt smaller.

"You're busy!" Beckendorf commented, almost shouting over the din of people.

"This is nothing!" Lindsay responded. "You should see us once school lets out for the summer!"

Finally, she stopped in front of a wooden door. It looked completely out of place in the underground complex—more like something at the front of a house than a front door for an office under the earth.

Lindsay knocked hard on the door. After a moment, a deep voice bellowed, "Come in!"

She opened the door and gestured for Liam and Beckendorf to enter. Hesitantly, they stepped inside. All Liam could think about was that if they were perceived as a threat, nobody would hear their screams from down there.

The room they had entered was classier than Liam had expected for a bounty hunter organization that had literally been forced underground. It sort of looked like the New York Library, just smaller. The floor was made of smooth wooden planks that looked like they had just been polished. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled to the brim with books titled in Greek. A large mahogany desk sat in the center of the room, where a large man sat.

The man was even larger than Beckendorf—which was saying something. He had to be at least six and a half feet tall, with enough muscles to put a cyclops to shame. His hair was black, but it was beginning to turn gray. He was wearing a black leather jacket and brown cargo pants. A sword almost as tall as Liam rested next to the man on the desk. His blue eyes glared at them as they entered the room, but the most off-putting detail about this man was the three scars running diagonally across his face, like something huge had attempted to slice him to bits.

"Sir," Lindsay said to the man. "I've brought some guests."

There was that word again. _Guests._ The way that she said it, it didn't sound like it actually meant _guests._ Maybe _prisoners_ or _slaves_ , but not _guests_.

"Excellent!" the intimidating man exclaimed in a deep voice. He stood from his seat behind the desk and offered a hand for Beckendorf and Liam to shake.

After a moment, Liam shook the man's hand. The stranger's fingers were rough and calloused, but for some reason there was a quality to them that Liam didn't like. They felt...dishonest. His mother had told him you could always tell the quality of a person by their handshake. What Liam saw in this "boss" and his handshake unsettled him.

"I'm Barbarous," the man said, releasing Liam's hand and shaking Beckendorf's. Barbarous flashed a smile their way, which only served to solidify Liam's initial assumption. "Have you two fellows come here to sign up?"

"No," Liam said, trying hard not to laugh. "One of our friends is, though. We're just scoping the place out for them."

Barbarous's eyes narrowed at them for just a second, and Liam knew that the large man didn't believe the lie. But Barbarous didn't say anything. He just sat back down at his desk and crossed his arms.

"What can I do for you two, then? I'm a busy man."

 _Yeah,_ Liam thought. _Busy murdering other demigods._

"We just have some questions," Beckendorf replied, crossing his arms as well.

"Yeah," Liam said. "Like...where's the bathroom?"

Beckendorf shot him a glare, but Liam ignored him. He had seen something on the way in that might be able to help them.

Barbarous's eye twitched. Clearly, he had not been expecting that as a question. "Daniel, why don't you escort this young man to the...er, facilities?"

A guard appeared in the doorway. He looked to be in his early twenties, with a military-style haircut and dyed green hair. A bronze mace hung on his belt. He wore dark leather armor. "Yes, sir."

Liam stood and followed Daniel, who had already started moving down the hallway. Liam had to dodge several messengers in red coats as they ran, nearly crushed against the wall at one point.

"Here," Daniel gruffly said, gesturing to a steel door in the hallway. "Make it quick." Clearly, the guard was not thrilled to be assigned to potty-watch duty.

Liam nodded at the guard in thanks and entered the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him. The bathroom itself wasn't really that special; just a small toilet in the corner with a sink next to it. But Liam was more interested in the vent above that.

It was small, only a little wider than the width of Liam's shoulders. If this was going to work, it would be a tight fit.

Liam took a screwdriver from his pocket that Beckendorf had handed to him when nobody was looking. Quietly floating himself up to the vent, he set to work on unscrewing the bolts that kept it in place. This would have to be fast.

When it was done, Liam set the metal vent cover on the floor. Then, saying a quick prayer to whoever was listening, Liam climbed inside the vent.

If he thought the hallway was cramped, the air duct made it seem like Central Park. Liam crawled forward and his hands and knees, pressed flat against the duct. It was hard to move forward, and after a moment he realized all the noise he was making.

Then an idea struck. Concentrating, Liam floated himself an inch or so above the bottom of the metal duct, allowing him to travel much faster—and more importantly, quietly. With all the noise in the Syndicate base, it was unlikely that anyone would hear him, but it never hurt to be careful.

Soon he could hear all the bustle of the hallway beneath him, which meant that the room he was headed for was...that way. As soon as Liam reached a crossroads in the air duct, he turned left.

He was very aware that if he was caught, the various bounty hunters that called this place home would kill him, and Beckendorf as well. If they had indeed killed Alex, then they knew their relationship with her. No doubt they were already suspicious.

Suddenly the sounds from the hallway faded, and Liam found himself floating over another small duct. This one seemed to be placed in the ceiling of the next room, and he peered through the cracks to make sure the room was clear. He smiled grimly when he realized that he had reached his target.

Below him was a room full of gray file cabinets, dimly lit by a couple of lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling. The floors were made of cement, as were the walls. Liam waited for a minute or two, then decided that the inside of the room was unguarded.

He went to work on unscrewing the vent, but it was a lot harder from the inside. He recognized that he had already been "in the bathroom" for a long time. Soon, people would get suspicious, if they weren't already. He didn't have time for this.

Liam snapped his finger, sending a small bolt of lightning into the vent cover. It snapped open a little louder than he would have cared for, but nobody came running, even when the vent cover hit the cement floor. Whoever was guarding this room must have been on a coffee break. Perfect.

Liam silently floated himself into the room, slowing himself so that he landed on the floor without a sound. He only had a few minutes. Time to find something incriminating.

It was harder than it sounded. There were dozens of file cabinets to sort through, and Liam wasn't even sure where to start. He opened one at random—wincing at the sound it made—and peered inside. There were a couple files on people, all of them having a last name that started with N. He closed that cabinet and opened another one. L and K. Liam moved a couple cabinets down and opened another one. Bingo—last names starting with B and C.

He flipped through a couple files until his eyes landed on a thick file. CLAYTON, ALEXANDRA, it read. Heart thumping, he grabbed the file out of the cabinet and began to read.

 _ALEXANDRA CLAYTON_

 _HERITAGE: Artemis (mother) and Athena (father is a half-blood)_

 _STATUS: Eliminated_

 _RECENT REPORTS: 48_

Liam gulped and turned the page in the file, reading the first thing on the next page.

 _Clayton has been looking into our work. She has been seen at several libraries gathering information about the roots of our organization. At first, we thought she wanted to join up, but we quickly realized that she was looking for the hunter that had attacked her at Christmas. Phoebe must have revealed something before her demise; it is the only explanation. We planned to capture and interrogate her to find out what she knows, but all of the monsters that have been sent after her have not returned. Unfortunately, the mission became one of elimination. She was taken out by the operative—_

The name of the "operative" was blacked out with a thick marker, making it unreadable.

Liam felt electricity begin to crackle on his body as his vision turned red. The Syndicate _had_ had Alex assassinated. They were responsible for taking her away from him. He was suddenly overcome with such overwhelming hatred for the organization he was standing in the middle of that he couldn't help the wave of lightning that burst forth from his fingertips, scorching the cement floor with a loud _ZAP!_

"What was that?" a voice from outside the room said.

"Styx," Liam muttered as footsteps began to approach.

Quickly, he stuffed the file on Alex in the inside pocket of his jacket, hoping that it didn't look too obvious. He went to close the cabinet door, but another file caught his eye.

BENTLEY, WILLIAM

It was his. Why did they have a file on him?

The footsteps were closer now. In a moment, they would be in the room with him.

Liam couldn't afford to fit another file into his jacket. Even if he could, it would be a dead giveaway that he was the one who had stolen them. But he had to know what they had on him.

Quickly, Liam opened the file, but he could only catch a couple of words.

 _WILLIAM BENTLEY_

 _HERITAGE: Zeus_

 _STATUS: Possible threat or recruit (undetermined)_

 _RECENT REPORTS: 24_

 _Bentley was romantically involved with Alexandra Clayton before her elimination. Considering his attachment to her, he could be a possible threat if he finds out who was responsible for it. But if we could turn him against his friends—_

Liam slammed the cabinet door shut, grabbed the vent cover, and shot back into the air duct just as the door to the file room opened.

He didn't even dare to breathe as he held the vent cover in place. Below him, a guard in dark armor like Daniel's approached the scorch mark on the floor.

"What is it?" another guard asked.

The first guard scuffed the floor with his boot, rubbing away the scorch mark. "Nothing. Probably just another loose wire."

Liam breathed a sigh of relief as the guards left the room. With a little more maneuvering, he was able to fix the vent cover in place despite the fact that he had broken it.

When he opened the bathroom door, Daniel had his mace drawn and looked like he had been ready to bust it down.

"Sorry," Liam said, smiling innocently. "Stomach issues."

 **x x x**

"You did _what?"_ Annabeth demanded.

Liam shrunk back, his hand brushing Alex's file on the desk as he did.

Liam and Beckendorf had given a believable excuse for not touring the Syndicate's facility and immediately called all of their friends to the school with a hasty series of Iris Messages. Chiron couldn't be there—he had some kind of important business on Mount Olympus—but Annabeth was fulfilling the role of disapproving adult just fine.

"We grabbed Alex's file from the Syndicate," Beckendorf said, unbothered by Annabeth's hostility.

"You _stole_ from them?"

"Um...yeah," Liam said.

"I don't see the problem, Annabeth," Thalia said, crossing her arms as she sat on a desk. They had decided to meet in Chiron's classroom, like old times. One of the desks sat empty, and Liam purposefully avoided looking at it. It used to be Alex's. "They figured out who was involved in our friend's death _and_ found proof."

"But it's not like we can take it to the police," Grover said. In the past two years, his horns had grown, peeking out over his curls. His satyr legs were exposed, and he chewed on a tin can in between sentences. "Who are we supposed to take this to?"

"Chiron!" Liam exclaimed. "Besides, you haven't even read the files yet."

"Exactly," Beckendorf said. "Read it first, and when you're done you can yell at us."

Liam could tell than Annabeth wasn't happy, but eventually she nodded.

He hadn't realized just how much the Syndicate had on Alex. He knew that the file was thick and heavy—it was a wonder he had managed to sneak it out at all—but there were enough files there to make his head spin.

They passed the files around like candy, reading as many as they could as fast as they could. Liam was disturbed by the amount of details in the report—he had to hide a few of the files from his friends because they described a few of his dates with her. Worse, they even detailed her life _before_ she came to Goode.

"Look at this," Thalia said, waving Liam over.

She was holding a file with a picture of a seven-year-old Alex. She had been an adorable little girl; she even had pigtails. Liam smiled when he saw the picture, but that faded when he heard Thalia's words.

"Listen," she said. "This file says 'Frederick was more effective than we anticipated as a trader, but when it came to breaking Clayton's will his methods were subpar.' Fred was one of theirs."

Liam closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Not only had the Syndicate been responsible for Alex's death, but they had also tortured her for years.

Those bastards were going down.

"Liam," Percy said, warning creeping into his voice. "You're crackling."

Liam opened his eyes, willing the electricity on his skin to go away. "I need you guys to do me a favor."

"Another one?" Grover asked, though he had chewed through his supply of tin cans some time ago and had been bleating nervously for quite some time.

"Just trust me," Liam said. "Meet me at the Clayton's in an hour. And bring everything that used to be hers."

 **x x x**

Lawrence was very confused when they all appeared at his house holding cardboard boxes.

"What is this?" he asked. Liam couldn't help but noticing the bags under the detective's eyes and the untidiness of his hair. That wasn't like Lawrence. Then again, it had only been a little over a week since she…since the incident.

"Lawrence," Liam said. He hadn't really thought this part through (although if he was being honest, he hadn't really thought _any_ of this through). "Um…we need to see Alex's room again. I swear it's for a good reason."

Lawrence blinked. Then he stepped aside without any more dialogue. Liam frowned as the group passed him. That _really_ wasn't like Lawrence. Like the rest of them, Alex's father was taking her death hard—perhaps even harder than the rest of them.

It was a good thing Bobby didn't appear to be home—Liam didn't know if he had it in him to explain what exactly they were doing again. He knew it made him sound a little crazy and abnormal. But like Alex always said: _Normal is boring anyway._

Her room hadn't changed at all since they had left it just a few days earlier. It seemed strangely empty without all of her things in it. Luckily, the group set out to fix that.

They emptied their boxes onto the floor, creating a large mess that would have made Alex blow a gasket if she had seen it in her bedroom. It was havoc: there was a thick carpet of papers on the floor covered in various random objects: arrows, wood carvings, shoes, books, hunting trophies, picures, and, strangely, even a thick scroll of enchilada recipes (Grover explained that Jasper, his girlfriend, had given it to Alex so that she could make more enchiladas for Grover. Among her other skills, she had also been an excellent cook).

"Spread out," Liam said, trying to ignore the painful twinge in his heart when he saw all of her things out like that. "She might have left other clues behind."

The others looked doubtful, but they began the search all the same. Liam sat cross-legged on the floor between Percy and Thalia, looking through a big pile of papers. Most of them were old grades (she had passed English with a 112%, but nearly failed math—at least, according to her homework grades), but some of them were old notes that she had taken. None of them contained any brilliant insights.

"Did you know she was this…meticulous?" Thalia asked Liam.

He shrugged. "I knew she liked keeping notes, but I never dreamed she kept this many."

Percy held up one of the sheets of paper up to the light, squinting at it. "How can anyone read this?"

Liam snatched the piece of paper away when he caught a couple words, namely _Liam, date,_ and _interesting._ Giving the paper a once-over, he realized that Alex's handwriting had been particularly sloppy here, but it didn't contain any ground-breaking revelations: it just detailed how one of their dates had turned into a monster-hunting adventure.

He smiled to himself. That had been really fun. No wonder Alex had written it down: not only had they had the time of their lives, but they also saw several interesting monsters.

It felt like they searched through her things for hours, but nobody came across any clues. At one point, they had thought she had carved something into one of her old pairs of shoes, but then they realized that it was just a scar from a monster attack.

Liam sat back on her bed and sighed hopelessly. He had been _sure_ that she would have hidden something else in her things. If Alex had thought somebody was after her, she would have taken precautions, not trusting anybody. In some ways, that hurt, but he also knew that she had done it to protect her friends.

He sighed again and flipped through an old calendar absently, feeling the thin pages ruffle under his fingers.

Liam paused. Why did he feel a little bump in the paper?

He looked down. He had flipped to the month June, on the 14th. It had been Xed out just like all the other days, but there was a strange marking in the corner: a little dot in black sharpie. Frowning, Liam turned to July only to find two similar markings. Two dots on July 6th and one on the 18th.

"Annabeth," Liam said, trying to mask the excitement in his voice, "you should come take a look at this."

Annabeth walked over, in the middle of examining a book called _Metamorphosis._ "What is—" She cut herself off when she saw the markings on the calendar, dropping the book in her hands. "Interesting."

Liam quickly moved out of the way so that she could investigate the calendar. He had learned the hard way that if you got in the way of Annabeth and knowledge, you had best be prepared for her bronze dagger. Percy had done that once or twice as well, and he _still_ complained about it.

The group huddled around the bed as Annabeth chewed on the end of a pencil, flipping through the calendar. Liam had to brush aluminum shavings off the bed covers as Grover munched nervously on one.

"How many calories does a tin can have?" Thalia asked Grover. "How do you satyrs eat so many of those?"

Grover shrugged. "I work it off."

"Yeah, by eating enchiladas," Percy commented.

Liam chuckled, but almost immediately stopped. It felt wrong to laugh without Alex.

Annabeth suddenly snapped her fingers, and her boyfriend understood faster than the rest of them did. Percy ripped a blank page out of one of the notebooks and handed it to her. Instantly she began scribbling on the paper, looking back at the marked calendar every now and then. It took Liam a moment to realize that she was writing in Greek characters, but by the time his brain had sorted out the translation Annabeth was already saying it aloud.

"' _Find the real Barbarous,"'_ she read.

Liam frowned. "Oh, Styx."

 **I hope this chapter made sense—I was looking forward to writing it.**

 **So since I wrote two chapters, that means I get two reviews today, right guys? Right? It's fine—just one will do.**

 **What did the fish say when he ran into the wall?**

 **Dam.**


	8. I WITNESS MY BOYFRIEND'S DORKDOM

**And we're back with the one chapter a day schedule. Hopefully. It's been getting kind of hard to crank out chapters lately—and I fully blame video games. Oh, and summer work for my AP classes. That too.**

 **Also, I apologize again for the shortness of Alex's chapters.**

* * *

" _Oh, so the mockingbird is a symbol for Tom and the crazy dude in the house?" Bobby asked me._

 _I nodded and pointed at a passage in the book. "See? Scout mentions it right here, and then towards the end it is verbally said."_

 _Bobby put his pencil down and massaged his temples. "This is confusing."_

 _I shrugged. "Considering that I just finished reading it twenty minutes ago, I'd say you probably have a better understanding of it than I do. I skipped freshman year, remember?"_

 _He threw his pencil at me, but I threw my eraser, which intercepted the miniature missile in mid-air. I grinned at him, and my little brother rolled his eyes._

" _Stupid powers of accuracy," he muttered._

" _Hey!" I said, frowning. "You're really grumpy lately. What's going on?"_

 _Bobby scowled. "Nothing."_

 _I cocked an eyebrow at him. "You're a bad liar."_

 _He sighed. "My dagger is broken."_

" _Bobby!" I exclaimed. "Why didn't you tell me? You know how dangerous it is for a demigod to be unarmed!"_

 _He crossed his arms. "It's kind of embarrassing. I broke it trying to kill a draconae, but it broke against a rock."_

" _Ah," I said. "Well, that's not too bad."_

 _I was about to suggest getting him a new dagger when an idea suddenly occurred to me. Daggers were good for close encounters, but not for long engagements. And I wanted my little brother to be safe._

" _Tell you what," I said, smiling. "I'll talk to Chiron about getting you a sword. And I know Liam is an excellent teacher."_

 _Bobby's eyes lit up. "Really?"_

" _Really."_

I snapped out of the memory with a start. That memory was definitely more recent: just a few months before I died. Like usual, my head ached something fierce when I snapped out of the memory.

"Are you all right?" Jake asked me, looking concerned.

"I'm fine," I grunted, sitting on a boulder. "Just a little dazed."

Jake and I had sort of developed a routine: I would brainstorm ways to try and break out of the Fields of Asphodel, and he would usually shoot them down. After a while, my memory would start to feel fuzzy, so Jake would help me out by replaying a memory for me, which helped me remember things. Then we would start over. I'd like to say we made a lot of progress because we didn't have to worry about frivolous things like food or sleep, but that just wasn't true. It turns out when you have too much time on your hands, you can only come up with so many ideas.

I watched a spirit trip over the roots of a poplar tree and fall flat on their face. They stood up quickly, looking confused. It was a common expression on most spirits here; none of them could remember who they were, and they were always trying to remember. It was really sad, actually.

I straightened as my brain finally seemed to work.

"Jake," I said carefully. "Why can you remember who you are?"

He seemed to think about that for a moment. "I'm not sure. If I had to guess, I would say helping you remember who you are is helping me remember who I am."

I frowned. I wasn't sure how that made sense, but Jake had been stuck here longer than I had been, so I was sure he knew more about this place than I did. But I was also sure I had to try something else.

"Can you show me one of your memories?" I asked him.

Jake seemed confused by my request. "Um…why?"

"I'm curious about something," I told him. In truth, my memory was still a little fuzzy, but my head was hurting too much to explore more of my memories. I needed a break, but I also needed to remember.

"All right," Jake said, twisting his face into a thinking expression. I had seen Liam do the same thing multiple times before. I tried to think of something else.

"I've got one," Jake said, interrupting my private thoughts. "Here."

Gingerly, I took Jake's hand, and I was sucked into another memory.

Instantly, I was standing in a small living room, with a glass coffee table and a carpet the color of eggshells. Several pictures hung on the wall, mostly of a family of three. I focused on one taken in front of a beach and recognized Liam's mother, though she looked a lot younger in these photos and was holding a couple of beach towels. Jake stood next to her, and though he wasn't smiling, he did seem to be enjoying himself. The little girl in a bathing suit and goggles next to him had to be Jasmine, smiling wildly. She had to have been four-years old. That means that the eight-year-old boy next to her had to be Liam.

I almost laughed. Liam's hair was sticking straight up in this photo, looking like a bird had taken up residence in it. He was wearing bright orange swim trunks, but they looked almost white compared to the terrible sunburn that Liam had. He looked like a lobster! Despite that, eight-year-old Liam was smiling the widest out of all of them.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" a voice asked, drawing my attention back to the present. I mean, the past. Gods, this was confusing.

I looked to the couch and found Jake sitting there, though he didn't seem to know that I was present. It was strange to see him wearing clothes other than the gray robes that I knew him in. He was wearing a gray shirt and blue athletic shorts. He seemed to be the same age, roughly thirteen.

He was sitting next to another boy of about the same age. The stranger was wearing a white t-shirt with the words "I SURVIVED NASHVILLE, TENNESSEE" on them and blue jeans. He had black hair shaved close to his scalp and had russet skin the color of chocolate.

"It'll be fine," the boy told Jake. "We just sneak in, grab the drachmas, and get out before the draconae realizes what happened."

Jake looked unsure. "I don't know, Alfie. It sounds easier said than done."

I felt a chill. I was watching a memory of Jake and Alfie plotting the scheme that got them killed. They would steal from the draconae and run away, but it would follow Jake home and kill him.

"No, you can't!" I said before I could stop myself. Jake and Alfie didn't even blink, much less acknowledge me.

 _Idiot,_ I thought. _You're in a memory. They can't hear you!_

"Fine," Alfie said, crossing his arms. "I can do it by myself."

"Don't be like that, Alfie."

"I'll do whatever—"

"Jake!" a significantly younger voice called from another room. I craned my neck to see who it was, but I didn't have to.

In a moment, a younger version of Liam came around the corner, holding a math textbook in one hand and a juicebox in the other. By some miracle, I resisted the urge to snicker. Liam was wearing Pokemon pajamas with Pikachu on them (I was sort of horrified that I knew that, but these were the side effects of dating a massive geek). This must have been before his eyesight worsened, because he wasn't wearing any glasses.

"Jake," Liam said again. "Can you help me with my math homework?"

Jake had looked annoyed by the interruption, but when Liam spoke, his big brother's eyes softened.

"Sure," Jake said, smiling at Liam. "Can you give me a minute though, bud? Alfie and I are almost finished."

"Yeah," Liam sighed. He turned around and trudged into whatever room was beyond; I couldn't see.

Jake turned back to Alfie, looking troubled.

"He looks too much like his father," Alfie commented, his arms still crossed. I guessed that he was not a big fan of Zeus.

"He's my brother," Jake said sternly. He looked back at the room that Liam had vanished into and sighed. "All right, Alfie. I'm in. This will help him too."

 _Whoosh!_

I was swept from the memory with no warning, and I landed hard on the ground, releasing Jake's hand.

"Feeling any clearer?" Jake asked me.

"Yeah," I lied. My head was aching even worse than before, and I still felt a little fuzzy. My best guess was that sharing memories like this slowed down the memory loss, but didn't stop it.

"I've got to get out of here," I muttered.

 **Like I said—Alex's previous chapter used to be part of this one, but I had to split them up, so if this seems a little redunant, that's why.**

 **Hey! I've got more than one hundred views! It was a bit of a struggle watching those views climb up, but I will take whatever I can get.**

 **What do you call a bear with no teeth?**

 **A gummy bear.**


	9. LEMONADE WITH A HINT OF ABSURDITY

**Okay, be prepared for some bad news. This next week, I will be on a missions trip, where I will not have any technology. That means I WILL NOT BE ABLE TO UPDATE FOR ABOUT A WEEK.**

 **Also, I have been informed that the antagonists's motives might be somewhat similar to other stories you might find here, but I assure you, its a bit different.**

* * *

Liam hated farms.

It was strange. Up until he was nine, he had lived in Tennessee—which had a lot of farms. But he had been raised in the city, where air conditioning and fast food joints roamed instead of cows. So when they arrived on the farm nearly two weeks after they discovered the message, he was not happy.

Two weeks might not seem like a long time, but it took Liam and the others a few days before they realized that they had access to a detective who could search whatever databases he had access to for a man named Barbarous. But they had only ended up with a last name: Barbarous Cantid. Then they needed to search the state (Annabeth had found another message in the calendar: " _New York"_ ) for anyone with that last name, and then they handed the searching off to Annabeth because they were all exhausted. She had told them all at school on Friday that she had found him, and since they were all seniors, they left during the study hall they all shared last period, borrowing Lawrence's van to drive three hours north to the middle of nowhere.

As soon as they exited the van and started walking up the path to the red farmhouse on a hill, Liam began to worry, and questions that had been haunting him for two weeks popped back into his head. For starters, who was the man they had met in the Syndicate's facility, if not Barbarous? Why would Alex be looking for the "real" Barbarous? What was the Syndicate doing in New York? Was the real Barbarous dangerous? What if it was a trap planted by the Syndicate to get rid of anybody who suspected foul play in Alex's death? And why would anyone name their child Barbarous?

Oh, and to make matters worse, the cows were glaring at him, as if they somehow knew that he had eaten a double cheeseburger from Wendy's on the way there.

"Relax," Beckendorf told Liam as they reached the porch of the farmhouse. "Everything will be fine."

"We're demigods," Liam replied, keeping an eyes on the cows. "When does anything turn out fine for us?"

Liam could tell Beckendorf didn't know what to say to that.

They came to a stop outside the door. Grover had volunteered to keep an eye on the van for them, so there were still five demigods at the front door. Liam looked around the country nervously. They no longer had access to the Staff of Soteria, the artifact that Alex had recovered from Fred, her crazy caretaker. Chiron had used it to help create the protective borders of Camp Half-Blood, and it had been destroyed in the process. Five demigods in one place would be like a dinner bell to most monsters. Oddly, however, there hadn't been any hint of monsters stalking them.

Liam forced himself to focus. Answers. They needed answers, not paranoia.

He looked at the others, and they nodded at him. Taking a deep breath, Liam knocked on the door.

There was silence for a few moments, but Liam could have sworn he saw one of the blinds on the windows flick open for half a second before they closed again. Eventually, a voice came through the door, sounding deep but muffled.

"What do you want?"

Liam looked at Annabeth. She was frowning and seemed to be deep in thought. No help there.

"Um…" Liam said. "We're here to…uh…sell Girl Scout cookies!"

Percy and Thalia glared at him. Liam shrugged. What else was he supposed to say?

"You don't look like Girl Scouts," the voice said, sounding suspicious.

Before Liam had a chance to wonder how the voice was able to see them through the door, Annabeth shouted something that took him a second too long to process.

"Liam, get out of the way!"

 _BOOM!_

A strong force slammed into Liam's body, launching him backwards as the door exploded. Before he could gather the winds around him to catch himself, a wooden chunk hit him in the forehead, and he saw no more.

In his dream, Liam was back in the Syndicate's facility. He was in a part of it that he didn't recognize, where the dark hallways were empty of people—save two.

Barbarous—at least, the fake Barbarous—was standing with his insanely muscular arms crossed next to Lindsay in front of a large steel door that looked very out of place. Two cyclopes stood next to it, heaving a hatch to get it to open. Both were grunting and sweating profusely, which Liam found troubling for a couple reasons. For one, he didn't even know that monsters were _capable_ of sweating. For another, he knew that cyclopes had immense strength. If they were struggling to open a simple door, it had to be very heavy. And why was the Syndicate working with monsters? Granted, not all cyclopes were bad—Percy had a half-brother who was basically a big teddy bear—but if the Syndicate was using cyclopes, that couldn't be good.

Finally, the struggling cyclopes finished their task, and the steel door swung open with a loud _swoosh_ sound.

Inside of the large safe, LED lights shone off of several artifacts. Liam saw large shields, strange curved swords, large scrolls, wax statues, puzzle spheres, and more. All of it radiated power.

"What are we doing here?" Lindsay asked.

"Dropping an artifact off," Barbarous said. "What else?"

He put his hand in the pocket of his leather jacket and pulled something out. Liam gasped, and suddenly was very glad that he wasn't actually there in person. Otherwise he might have attempted to strangle the fake Barbarous into oblivion.

In his hand was a gleaming white necklace. A moon pendant hung from the chain, engraved with multiple greek symbols and the letters AC, in Alex's handwriting.

"How did you get that?" Lindsay asked, looking almost as surprised as Liam felt.

Barbarous shrugged. "Nobody at the morgue checks a corpse for their valuables these days. A shame. Grave robbing used to be quite common."

Blood roared in Liam's ears. If he had been there in person, he had no doubt that electricity would be crackling all over the place. He was going to _kill_ Barbarous—or whoever he was.

Barbarous entered the safe, but the light inside was too bright for Liam to see much else. After a moment, Barbarous exited, and Alex's necklace was no longer with him.

"We're finished here," he told the cyclopes, who immediately set to work on closing the safe again. Barbarous turned back to Lindsay, spreading his arms wide. "And with that, we are even closer to achieving our goal. Come. We have more to plan."

Liam woke with a gasp, and immediately wished he hadn't when a splitting headache assaulted him.

"Stay down," someone told him. It sounded like Thalia. "You took a nasty hit to the head."

"Drink this," a voice said. Liam didn't recognize it, but he accepted the glass he was handed all the same. He took a tentative sip and discovered that it was nectar—it tasted like blueberry pie, which his mother used to make all the time before she became busy with work. It even tasted superb like hers did, too.

Instantly the headache began to ease, and Liam was able to open his eyes. Squinting, he realized that he was lying on a rather beat-up couch that for some reason smelled like citrus. His friends were sitting on mismatched furniture around him, holding glasses of what looked like lemonade. A plate of cookies sat on a coffee table. They appeared to be inside some kind of house—there was a fireplace in one corner and a window above Percy's seat that revealed more cows. Thalia was standing over him.

Liam groaned as he sat up. "What happened?"

"You were stupid," Thalia said bluntly.

 _Sounds about right,_ Liam thought, rubbing his forehead, where he found a tender goose egg.

"Actually," the deep voice interrupted, "I was being a tad paranoid."

Liam looked behind him and immediately reached for the ring on his finger. The man standing behind the couch was nearly identical to the Barbarous he had seen in his dream. He had the same three claw marks across his face, the same harsh features, and the same deep voice. But he also seemed…well, wimpy. He was wearing simple blue flannels and jeans with hiking boots. He was insanely scrawny—he looked like a twig.

"Liam," Thalia said, squeezing his arm painfully like she did when he did something wrong. "This is the real Barbarous. Don't. Kill. Him." She spoke through a clenched smile.

Liam forced himself to relax. This was not the same man he had seen in his dream. He put his ring back on and allowed the tension in his shoulders to drop.

"What do you mean?" Liam asked the real Barbarous.

The other man seemed sheepish, which didn't seem like him—until Liam realized that he hadn't actually met him before, just his doppleganger. Liam's head began to ache again, and not just from his head wound.

"I'm not too great with visitors," Barbarous said. "And please, call me Barb."

"All right…Barb," Liam said, frowning. He looked at the others. "How long was I out for?"

"Just an hour," Annabeth said. She and Percy were sitting on the only other couch in the room. Everyone else seemed to be seated on wooden dining chairs, even Grover, who was supposed to be watching the van. "We've been talking while you were out."

"About?" Barbarous handed Liam a cup full of cold lemonade. "Er…thanks."

"Well, not much," Thalia admitted. "We were waiting for you to wake up. Mostly we talked about how to make lemonade."

"My lemonade has won the county citrus fair seven times in a row!" Barbarous exclaimed proudly. "It even keeps monsters away! They hate citrus."

Liam looked at Beckendorf for confirmation. The burly boy nodded, looking dejected. Liam knew for a fact that Beckendorf was clueless when it came to cooking.

"Which brings us to business," Thalia said. "We have a couple questions for you, Barb."

"About the Syndicate," Percy added for clarification.

Instantly Barbarous's demeanor changed. Gone was the carefree lemonade-making farmer. In his place was a tired and scared-looking old man.

"This is exactly why I don't like guests," Liam heard him mutter. Then, louder, "What do you want to know?"

Liam opened his mouth, but Beckendorf got there first, sending him a warning look not to be too blunt.

"For starters, why is there a man who looks exactly like you running it?" Beckendorf took a sip of the lemonade.

"That's…a long story," Barbarous said. "Are you sure you want to hear it?"

"We need to," Annabeth said.

Barbarous sighed and sat on a stool that Liam hadn't noticed before. "Well…if you know about the Syndicate, you probably know all about the nefarious activities they've been up to lately."

"Lately?" Thalia asked. She'd read Alex's research just like the rest of them.

Barbarous's eye twitched. "True, they were just as bad in the old times. But when I took over about thirty years ago, I was determined to turn things around. I outlawed demigod trading, and I ordered that we only hunt monsters."

 _Some good that did,_ Liam thought. Fred—Alex's old caretaker—had probably been involved in demigod trading for at least twenty years. Of course, he was in prison now, but Liam had no doubt that other traders had slipped under Barbarous's radar.

"About ten years later, I took an apprentice under my wing," Barbarous continued. "I was training him to replace me some day. His name was Thaddeus, and he was a son of Zeus."

Liam suddenly felt very uncomfortable. So far, the only other child of Zeus he had met was Thalia, no doubt due to the oath that the "Big Three" had sworn when their children had caused World War II. But, as they had discovered, none of the Big Three, except maybe Hades, were very good at keeping that oath. Maybe they needed to add "no backsies" as a clause to clear things up.

Barbarous sighed again. "At first, Thaddeus—" _What's with all the weird names?_ Liam thought. "—seemed like a model student. He was kind and courteous, and he followed all my commands to the letter, and made sure that others did the same."

"What went wrong?" Percy asked. Annabeth elbowed him into silence.

"His sister was killed," Barbarous said bluntly. "The grief drove him mad. Thaddeus became a religious nut—he thinks that the gods need to be overthrown. By the time I found out, he had already turned all of my inner council against me. He kicked me out, and I went into hiding. Later, I realized that he had stolen my identity by using some kind of artifact to make himself look and sound like me."

"But that's impossible!" Grover exclaimed. "Nobody can steal someone's appearance!"

"Steal it? No. But imitate it? Yes. I'm afraid it is very old magic—but where he got the artifact, I have no idea."

"I might," Liam said dejectedly. He told them about his dream, and concentrated very hard on not crackling with electricity when he remembered how the necklace looked in the fake Barbarous's hands. He figured the real Barbarous wouldn't appreciate a charred couch.

"That's not good," Percy commented.

"Obviously," Annabeth said, her face twisted into a frown. "If Bar—I mean, Thaddeus has that many artifacts, who knows how much power he has or what he could do with it. Barb, do you have any idea what he could be planning?"

Barbarous shook his head. "Unfortunately, I went into hiding before I could find out. But whatever it is, it will most definitely hurt the gods."

Liam felt his back muscles tighten as a realization slapped him across the face. "Guys," he said. "What did Phoebe want two years ago?"

"To overthrow the…oh," Annabeth said.

"You think she and the Syndicate were in league with each other?" Percy asked, looking concerned.

"It makes sense," Liam replied. "Alex…" He paused as it felt like something stabbed him in the heart. "She said that Phoebe mentioned an ally. What _if_ it was the Syndicate? It would explain a lot."

"But wouldn't Phoebe be hesitant to team up with mortals after what happened the last time she did?" Thalia interjected.

"Maybe not," Annabeth said, and Liam could have sworn he could see the gears turning in her head. "With all the magical artifacts that they have access to, it wouldn't be hard to pass themselves off as a powerful being—maybe a Titan or another god."

"Okay, but why would the Syndicate work with a Titan if they hate the gods?" Beckendorf asked.

"That's easy," Barbarous said, and Liam started. He had forgotten the man was there. "Thaddeus isn't afraid to use any means necessary to overthrow the gods. If he can do that, taking out a single Titan should be easy." The older man frowned. "Did you say something about a girl named Alex?"

"Yeah," Liam said, his heart jumping. "Why?"

"Well, there was another girl who visited me maybe two months ago who called herself that. She asked pretty much the same questions as you."

Liam felt like he was going to have a heart attack. They were on the right track. Alex had investigated the same things. Hadn't she been killed because she knew too much? Or was it because she possessed a powerful artifact that Thaddeus needed? Was Liam in danger now that he was investigating the same things? If so, he didn't care. The only thing that could stop him from destroying the Syndicate now was if Alex came back to life and told him not to. But she would never tell him that, and there was no need to resurrect her—she was clearly in Elysium, where she would be having the time of her afterlife.

Barbarous checked his watch. "It's getting late. You all should probably leave. I have to replace the citrus filter soon."

" _Citrus filter?_ " Liam mouthed to Beckendorf. His friend simply shrugged.

"One more thing," Annabeth said as they got up to leave. "Why are monsters afraid of citrus?"

"How am I supposed to know?" Barbarous demanded. "They don't like potatoes either. Monsters are soulless beasts; it shouldn't be a surprise that they hate things that give life meaning."

Liam and Beckendorf shared a look. Liam was seriously considering that the old man had gone mad while he had been tending his cows for the past twenty years.

 _Hopefully,_ he thought, taking one last sip of his lemonade, _we won't go crazy trying to kill this Thaddeus._

Well, one could hope.

 **I added that thing about citrus just for fun. I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter! Please shoot me some reviews this next week!**

 **What do eskimos get from sitting on the ice too long?**

 **Polaroids.**


	10. I MAKE A DEADLY NEW FRIEND

**So I've noticed that I have this bad habit losing interest in my stories for a couple of weeks before feeling guilty and coming back to them. Sorry!**

 **Hope y'all enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

"Nope," Jake told me. "It won't work."

"Oh, for the love of the River Styx!" I shouted at the cavernous ceiling, ignoring the odd looks that the other spirits were giving me.

That had been my best idea yet, and yet Jake had told me that it _still_ wouldn't work! How exactly did he know so much about escape routes, anyway? It wasn't like _he_ had earth-shattering information in his brain that he had to get to his loved ones. _He_ had never attempted escape before.

A part of me wondered if I should just ignore Jake and go through with the plan anyway—I seriously thought that there was a good chance it could work.

 _No,_ a voice whispered in my mind, and my memory was so foggy that I couldn't remember if it was mine or not. _You don't want to do that. He hasn't led you stray so far._

I sighed and sat down in the shade of a black poplar tree. I had been here so long that I couldn't remember if I'd been in this specific spot before; then again, everything looked so similar down here, it would have been hard to tell even if my memory _had_ been in prime condition.

I realized it slowly. At first, it was just simple stuff, like the names of my sixth grade teachers, or my childhood friends. Then the memory loss had started to snowball. I forgot the name of my caretaker in foster care, and I _still_ can't remember. I can remember his face, and why I hated him, but I couldn't figure out what his name was. And no matter how many times I tried to refresh my memory with Jake, I couldn't remember who Bobby's real father was. It was like somebody had taken whiteout to my brain. To make matters worse, I had started to resemble the other spirits as well. While I was still wearing my normal clothes, it was like all the color had faded out of them, leaving everything an ugly gray.

I'll admit, I was slightly panicked. What good was having an afterlife if you forgot who you were? I was afraid that sooner rather than later, Alex Clayton would fade away, and a confused girl would take up residence in her body, wandering around the Fields of Asphodel for all eternity.

"Why?" I demanded. " _Why_ won't it work? Why won't _anything_ work!"

Jake sighed and sat down in the long grass next to me. "I don't know what to tell you. No one has ever really done this before."

I straightened. The teacher…Mr. Brunner? No, Chiron—he had taught us something about escaping the Underworld in his Greek class. What _was_ it?

I knew we'd gone over a lot of myths. I banged my palms against my forehead in an attempt to remember.

"Aha!" I nearly shouted. "I've got it! Orpheus and Eurydice!"

"Who?" Jake asked.

"Long story short," I said, racking my brain to remember the important details, "Orpheus's girlfriend died, and he went into the Underworld to save her. He played harp…no, the lute! He played the lute so well that Hades let him try to bring Eurydice back up to the mortal world, as long as he didn't turn around and look at her on the way up. But he does, and she stays in the Underworld. Cheery story, really."

Jake looked confused. The expression was similar to something that Liam would have done, with all the furrowed brows and frowning. "How is that supposed to help?"

"Well, other than the fact that her boyfriend was an _idiot,_ Eurydice would have made it out of the Underworld. She had help from someone living! That's the answer, Jake!"

Now Jake looked troubled. "I don't know, Alex."

I ignored him as I stood up to pace, my brain working overtime. If I could just contact one of my friends from above…but an Iris Message wouldn't work. And I didn't know anybody living who could serve as a messenger for me.

Wait a minute. _I_ might not have known someone, but _Percy_ did. All I had to do was call her.

I snatched a black blade of grass from the ground and tried to remember something that my mother's huntresses had taught me when I ran into them last summer.

"Got it," I muttered. Lifting the blade of grass to my lips, I blew hard. A long whistle came out, sounding a bit like a strangled kazoo.

They'd told me that a blade of grass could be used to call a timber wolf to my aid, as long as it knew me. But that was up in the mortal world; down here, I was hoping that it would call a much bigger dog.

For a long moment, nothing happened. A couple of ghosts looked at me like I was nuts—and maybe I was. Usually, nobody wanted to summon these creatures.

Then a large shadow appeared on the ground a yard away, even though it was nowhere near a tree. A large creature jumped out of it, wagging her tail happily. A spirit screamed and ran away, and more followed suit.

Because the creature I had summoned was a hellhound. A big one, too. It was about the size of a small baby elephant, with pitch black fur and glowing red eyes. I'd tangled with them enough times to know that their teeth and claws were as long as daggers and just as sharp, but lucky for me, this one was friendly.

"WOOF!" Mrs. O'Leary barked when she saw me. She bounded forward, attempting to say hello to me, but she just went right through my body, which I found a touch depressing, yet relieving. Percy had introduced me to her once or twice, and it had taken me a while to clean all the hellhound slobber off of my clothes.

"Hey, girl," I told her, smiling. If I were still alive, Cooper would have been insanely jealous to find another dog's scent on me. But it was just another painful reminder that I was not.

"Wanna do me a favor?" I asked the hellhound.

"WOOF!"

"I'm gonna take that as a yes," I said, ignoring the urge to scratch Mrs. O'Leary behind the ears, just how Cooper liked it.

Quickly looking around, I grabbed another, thicker blade of grass from the ground. Thinking fast, I scrawled a quick message on it by using my fingernails to carve into it. Hopefully, the others would receive my message, but there were a lot of unknown factors. Mrs. O'Leary could get lost. The blade of grass (which was a plant from the Underworld) could crumble into dust as soon as it reached the mortal world. The others could attack the hellhound, thinking she was hostile.

I took a deep, calming breath. Trust. I needed to trust Mrs. O'Leary, trust my friends, and trust myself. This would work. It had to.

I turned back around to find Mrs. O'Leary sniffing around Jake curiously. The poor boy looked terrified. When Mrs. O'Leary began to growl menacingly, I decided it was time to intervene.

"Hey!" I told her, drawing her attention back to me. I wasn't sure what the attention span of hellhounds was, but Mrs. O'Leary immediately lost all interest in Jake when I called her over.

I crouched down so that I was face-level with her. Under normal stances (AKA if I were still alive), I never would have put my face anywhere near a hellhound, friendly or not, but these were desperate times.

"Mrs. O'Leary," I said, my voice deadly serious. I held up the blade of grass with the message on it. "I need you to take this to Percy and the others. Find Liam. It's really, _really_ important. Can you do that for me?"

"WOOF!"

"Great." I carefully maneuvered the blade of grass between her teeth, which is not easy to do when your fingers are basically transparent. When she was ready to go, I bid her goodbye.

She woofed again one more time before jumping into another shadow and disappearing.

"Now what?" Jake asked after a moment.

"Now," I said with a sigh, "we wait."

 **What do you call a dog that does magic?**

 **A labracadabrador.**

 **Please review!**


	11. BIG THREE'S A CROWD

**So I'm under the impression that this is not as good as the first one, but that's just me. Sorry.**

* * *

The ride home was not pleasant.

Liam couldn't stop thinking about just how much Alex had known before they had killed her. Obviously she knew as much as they did now, which certainly seemed like it was enough to get her killed. But Barbarous had said that she had been there _two months_ before they had arrived, which left a month in between the time she visited Barbarous (how did she manage that without Lawrence noticing?) and her…death. And Liam knew her; she wouldn't stop digging. So that meant she'd had more information before they'd killed her.

He banged his fist against the armrest of his seat. What had she _known?_

Liam missed her more than ever, and not just because she'd had valuable information. Whenever he was confused about something, she would be able to clear it up. She'd also had the miraculous gift to cheer him up, no matter what. And she would have listened.

He hated that he had to use past tense.

Liam pinched his arm to get himself to think about something else. Thinking himself into a mournful spiral wouldn't help anybody. Luckily, a distraction soon appeared.

Percy suddenly swerved left hard, banging Liam's already sore head against the car window. He slammed on the brakes a moment later, slamming Liam's nose against the headrest of the front seat.

"Oh…" he moaned. " _Ow_."

"What the hell, Percy?" Thalia demanded from the seat next to Liam. Grover and Beckendorf chorused their confusion from the back of the van as well.

Percy didn't respond, but he did unbuckle and clamber out of the van, an odd look on his face. Annabeth followed him from the passenger seat a moment later. Liam and Thalia shared a look before following them.

Liam nearly tripped onto his face when he saw what was waiting for them. In the middle of the road, right in front of the van, was a massive hellhound, barking loud enough to make his eardrums ring in complaint.

Liam leaned heavily on his cane in relief when he realized that it was just Mrs. O'Leary, Percy's weird pet hellhound. In fact, Percy and Annabeth were both petting her comfortingly. Liam realized that Mrs. O'Leary was barking mournfully, like Cooper had after Alex's death.

"What's going on?" Grover asked, maintaining a safe distance from the hellhound.

Annabeth straightened, holding something in her hands. With a start, Liam realized it was a blade of grass—only, it was dark black, like it had been charred in a fire or something. It took him another moment to realize that Annabeth was tense and seemed shaken by something. Annabeth was _never_ shaken.

"What is it?" Thalia asked gently.

Annabeth wiped one of her eyes and read from the blade of grass in a shaky voice. "' _It's Alex,_ '" she read, and Liam almost collapsed to the ground. "' _I'm in the Fields of Asphodel. Trial was rigged. I have info about TS—send somebody to get me out. Please.'_ "

Liam was hyperventilating. It felt like his brain was simultaneously going too fast and too slow at the same time.

Alex was in the _Fields of Asphodel?_ The place where spirits went to forget every aspect of their lives? And she knew something about the Syndicate, too, which he had suspected. What if she forgot it? More importantly, what if she forgot _herself?_ How had she managed to hold on to her identity for this long? How had the Syndicate managed to interfere with a trial in the Underworld?

He needed to go. He needed to free her. He needed to…do something!

Liam took a step forward, but his palms had become sweaty and his cane slid out of his hands. His foot instantly protested, and he tripped into the side of the van. He immediately balanced himself and prepared to fly—where he would go, he wasn't sure, and in the back of the his mind he knew he wasn't thinking straight.

Somebody grabbed his shoulder, stopping him. Then two somebodies, holding him in place.

"Liam, you need to calm down," Beckendorf said.

"How can you be so calm?" Liam demanded. A vague thought told him he was shaking. "She's down there, right now, forgetting who she is—"

"We can't do anything right now!" Percy said, tightening his grip on Liam's other arm. "We're in the middle of nowhere."

"Get off of me!"

 _Crack!_

Suddenly the scent of burned hair filled the air, and Beckendorf and Percy both jumped away from Liam, cursing. His body was crackling with blue electricity.

How could they not _care?_ Their friend was down in the Fields of Asphodel. She wasn't celebrating or having a good time like she should be. Granted, she wasn't in the Fields of Punishment, but she was forgetting who she was—and to Liam, that felt like torture. He would have been able to grieve properly when he thought she was in Elysium. But he just couldn't live with himself if she was anywhere else.

"Liam!" It was Thalia. She was marching towards him, her face angry. "Stop it!"

Stop what? He wasn't doing anything. The electricity on his body had faded, and Percy and Beckendorf were both shaking off their shock—physical and literal. All Liam wanted to do was rescue his best friend. Why couldn't any of them see what they needed to do?

"Liam," Thalia repeated, grabbing his arm. Lightning sparked for a moment on her hand, but it did her no damage—afterall, she was a child of Zeus too. "Look at what you're doing."

Liam looked around him, and realized with a start that he _was_ doing something; above them, the clouds had turned an ugly black and flashed with lightning. The winds had picked up, nearly blowing his friends right into the van. Oddly, Liam was the only one unharmed by the miniature storm. Even Thalia was affected, swaying back and forth as she attempted to talk to him. The others were shouting something at him, but he couldn't even hear Grover's bleats over the storm that Liam had somehow created.

Horrified, Liam forced himself to calm down. Instantly, the storm clouds dispersed and the wind returned to normal. He never knew he was capable of something like that—and it terrified him.

"I—I'm sorry," he said, placing both hands on his cane just in case lightning could jump out of him without warning. "I didn't mean—"

"It's all right," Percy said. "You're not the only one who's accidentally created a small storm."

Liam gave him a confused look before Thalia's voice drew his attention.

"We'll get her, all right?" Her voice was gentle now. "We won't leave her there."

"Promise?" Liam asked. He felt like a little kid asking for ice cream, but he didn't care as long as it brought Alex back to him.

"We promise."

 **x x x**

Chiron was waiting for them when they got back, and he did not look happy.

"Three hours," Chiron said, somehow managing to keep his voice level. "That is how long I have been waiting here for you."

The centaur's normally white stallion body had turned gray, and his tweed jacket had become frayed. His brown hair looked as though it hadn't been combed in several days, and his beard was growing unevenly. Liam couldn't tell if it was because of Alex's death or the stress of dealing with the gods for long periods of time, but he suspected it was the former. Alex had been one of Chiron's students both in school and outside of it—she had trained with the bow under him, and he had even trained her father Lawrence. Chiron took every demigod death hard, but this one seemed to have drained him of the vitality that he possessed before.

They were gathered in the gym of Goode High, where they all attended school. It was about 10:00 at night. Normally, Liam wouldn't have been caught dead at the school at this time, even if training had been scheduled, but desperate times called for desperate measures. They needed to speak to Chiron.

"Chiron," Annabeth started, since she was the most likely to talk their way out of trouble. "We—"

"Imagine my surprise!" Chiron continued. "I had been a few hours late, but I've given you instructions in the past to train without me. When I came here and found nobody waiting, I thought…I thought something had happened."

Liam felt a flash of guilt as he sat on one of the gym benches. No wonder Chiron was pissed. When they hadn't shown up, he'd probably thought that monsters had gotten them too.

"I don't know _why_ you could possibly be possessed to be so _careless_ , but—"

"Chiron," Liam interrupted, his voice tired. His head was throbbing and he was continuously fighting down the urge to fly to Los Angeles (where the portal to the Underworld was) to free the girl he loved. "It's about Alex."

Chiron froze.

Annabeth handed him a piece of paper, which she had used to create a rubbing of the blade of grass Alex had sent them before it collapsed into dust. Alex's handwriting was fairly well preserved. Chiron read the message quickly, made a strangled sound from the back of his throat, then read it again.

"How can this be true?" he finally asked, looking up at the group of demigods gathered around him. "Nobody can 'rig' a trial in the Underworld."

Thalia and Percy elbowed Liam, and he cleared his throat. He told Chiron the whole story, starting with the black crossbow bolt in Alex's chest (where the others, thankfully, didn't say anything about the tears in his eyes) and ending with the message from Mrs. O'Leary. Liam made sure to mention his suspicions that Alex knew more than they did about the Syndicate, possibly something terribly important.

Chiron seemed tremendously troubled by the news of the Syndicate, especially when Liam told him about Thaddeus's views of the olympians.

"Percy," Chiron said, running his hand through his hair. "Do you still know of the rogue demigod?"

Percy paled a shade or two. "I think so. Why?"

"He might respond to your attempt at communication."

Percy sighed. "All right."

Confused, Liam and the others followed Percy to the male locker room that adjoined to the gym, where they could more easily create a stream of water from the showerheads for a proper Iris Message. Liam looked to the others for answers, but if they knew who this "rogue demigod" was, they weren't giving him any answers.

Percy pulled a golden drachma out of his pocket, sighed again, and threw it into the small rainbow that he had created. "Oh Iris, Goddess of the rainbow, show me Nico di Angelo…uh, wherever he is."

For a moment, the rainbow shimmered, like it was trying to decide if Percy's instructions were accurate enough. Eventually, though, it seemed to make up its mind, and the group huddled around Percy in an attempt to see what the shimmering square of light in the middle of the room showed them.

It wasn't as weird as it sounded.

Liam blinked as the image came into focus. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but not… _that_.

The Iris Message was showing them an image of a kid who was maybe fourteen, but he was the scariest looking fourteen-year-old he had ever seen—and he had a little sister that age. Nico di Angelo was wearing an aviator's jacket, black jeans, and a T-shirt with a close-up image of a skull on it. Oh, and he was using a chain for a belt, which Liam thought was creative but a little odd. He had dark black hair, and looked like he was in the middle of reading a book titled _World's Grimmest Graveyards_ and seemed to be enjoying it.

Percy coughed. Nico didn't even jump, like most people did when they were interrupted by an Iris Message. He just glanced up from his book, sighed, and closed it with a soft _thud._

"What do you want, Percy?" Nico's eyes flicked to the group of people surrounding the son of Poseidon. "And friends."

"Nico," Percy said. "We need your help."

There must have been something about the desperation in Percy's voice that swayed Nico. The younger boy looked as if he were about to refuse, but he hesitated.

"Fine," he said eventually, not sounding too happy. "You're all at the school, right? Great."

The Iris Message ended suddenly with a soft _pop_. Silence filled the locker room.

Liam looked around at his friends, none of which looked concerned. "What just happened?"

"Just wait for it," Thalia said.

Liam waited, but nothing could have prepared him enough for the sudden shadow that seemed to grow out of the wall.

It was very sudden. One moment there was a solid wall, and the next a boy with a skull shirt standing in the room with them. Thankfully, Grover shouted out in fright first, so Liam's exclamation of surprise was somewhat drowned out. Liam had only ever seen hellhounds travel through the shadows before. If a demigod was doing it…

Nico seemed a little more tired, but he adjusted his coat and stared around the room. "Hello."

"Ah, Nico," Chiron said, poking his head into the locker room since he was too tall to fit inside. "Nice of you to join us. I believe our friend Liam has a request to ask of you."

Liam gulped. Why did people always single him out? Not that he was intimidated by the scrawny fourteen-year-old that had just materialized and who may or may not be the son of Hades. No, that would be insane.

So, trying his best to appear confident, Liam explained the situation to Nico—how Alex was trapped in the Fields of Asphodel and how her trial had been weighted against her from the start. Liam didn't mention his feelings for her (he wasn't sure how comfortably he could tell a stranger that) or that she was the daughter of Artemis (usually demigods asked how that was possible, and Liam was sure Alex didn't want the fact that she had been a punishment for her mother broadcasted everywhere). Then, of course, he had to explain the Syndicate to him, and by the time Liam was finished, his mouth was very dry and his throat was sore from talking so long.

"So what do you need me to do?" Nico asked.

"Well," Chiron said, stroking his beard. At some point during Liam's explanations they had moved back into the gym. "We would all appreciate it if you could…urm—"

"We need you to help us break her out," Thalia interrupted bluntly.

Liam sighed. Leave it to his half-sister to clarify things in a single, blunt sentence.

Nico crossed his arms. "And you can't do that on your own because…"

"Nobody knows the Underworld like you do, Nico," Annabeth said. "If anyone can get her out of there, it's you."

Nico clenched his jaw. He seemed to be struggling with the decision. Liam could understand why. He'd gone against his own father before, and Zeus had nearly killed him. Liam imagined the decision was even more difficult when your father was the Lord of the Underworld.

"Nico," Percy said, the desperation that they all felt showing on his face. "We'd all owe you a massive favor."

That seemed to make the decision easier. Liam'd had five powerful demigods as friends, which made the decision immeasurably easier—for a wandering demigod like Nico, having them in his debt could mean a lot better protection for him.

"Fine," Nico said, sounding defeated. "I'll see what I can do."

And with that, the son of Hades faded back into the shadows.

A moment of silence passed before Liam said something.

"What now?"

"Now," Annabeth said, frowning as she thought, "we figure out a way to get you back into the heart of the Syndicate."

 **I hope you guys enjoyed this. I also need some feedback—I don't really know Nico's character as well, so it would be great if you guys could help me out with that (cough cough review cough cough). Thanks!**

 **What do you call a man with no arms and no legs hanging on a wall?**

 **Art.**

 **(again, my mom told me this one)**


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